Maelstrom 24 Pilgrimage 1
by illmatar
Summary: Decepticons on the move, reporters and protesters in a feeding frenzy, Cyclonus AWOL, and two Primes with unraveling neural nets. It can only be Maelstrom. THIS CHAPTER IS EXTREMELY VIOLENT. M for Mature themes, violent sexual references, and language
1. Chapter 1

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part A

Spike was tired, and this annoyed him. He was used to Autobots as a species being social and prone to seeking each other out for solace when distressed. Except for anyone named Prime apparently. With the Matrix, the leaders seemed to gain, power, insight, and an inconvenient habit of seeking high ground and solitude whenever they were upset.

Maybe it really was the Matrix. Maybe they were turning to its company rather than those around them, even if they weren't really aware of its support. Whatever the case, this tendency to look for privacy made them seem unapproachable, as they were more likely to deal with their pain alone.

It made some people think they were incapable of feeling it. Certainly since they confided in next to no one, others felt more reserved about confiding in them. Few took the time to breach the moat they built around themselves.

Of course, even if you wanted to you had to find the stubborn bastards first.

On the Maelstrom finding solitude was absolutely no problem. Finding one grieving Autobot commander was something else entirely - especially if he was an assassin...and he was avoiding you at all costs.

Spike had a hunch though...or rather Shellshock had a hunch and Spike had a map. Two days earlier Spike had mentioned to his new/old friend that they should bring Prime in on their discussions. Earth's ambassador and the former Autobot turned Slaver-hunter were up to their chins in plans for how to run a political campaign against Sponsor influence on Earth, as well as how best to support the Maelstrom crew with their bloody work. Rodimus would be a natural addition to these discussions. Shellshock had agreed, but after two days of hints and waiting Spike realized Shellshock had no intention of extending that invitation on Spike's behalf.

Some friend.

Well...he was actually. Just not as accommodating as he used to be.

Spike sighed. In many ways it was easier to think of Shellshock as a whole new person, rather than Bumblebee. (Spike never really got used to the name Goldbug anyhow, it seemed sort of a pointless change in the face of a slight make-over. Not this time though. The thought of calling that grim-faced, murderous hulk "Bumblebee" was just plain ludicrous.) Certainly the basis for their friendship had changed. As a young man, Spike had enjoyed Bumblebee's sense of adventure and enjoyment of life. Now Spike was appreciating the man's dedication to slaughtering slavers. Yeah. Definitely not Bumblebee.

Spike paused and looked at his map - REALLY hoping he hadn't forgotten to count any corridors he'd passed. Certainly he wasn't in any danger - they had two empaths, a telepath, and cameras everywhere if he got lost, and Shellshock had shown him how to work the nearly invisible pressure panels by each door to call for directions.

Spike just didn't want to call for directions. Robert laughed at him every time he did - which was exactly every time he tried to go anywhere on his own. The ambassador shuddered. He was well past the areas the crew regularly used and had decorated to distinguish hallways. Every hall, and room, and doorway looked exactly the same in all directions. On a ship that was more than twice the size of Metroplex that amounted to a hell of a lot of not much to look at.

He supposed the Converts that were supposed to be running this thing wouldn't have minded. Spike shuddered again. Shellshock had told him they estimated the ship was designed for a minimal crew of about two-hundred thousand Converts - with space and "accommodations" for as many as a million serving as...cargo. Maelstrom was meant to be a zombie factory. It was an invisible flying harvester ship, designed to slip into a planet's territory undetected, scan every living thing on that planet for potential collection, and do just about anything imaginable to those taken aboard. Having read Rodimus' account of the experiments done on him and Goldbug, Spike felt he had just a little bit to base his imaginings on. The rooms he passed all looked the same on the outside, but if you looked inside you found all sorts of err...interesting equipment to base even more imaginings on.

The whole thing was to be run by one to three Jabez, and an army of Converted slaves. Three had participated in its design, but Shellshock said that was highly unusual. Most Jabez worked completely alone. The only project any of them had ever heard of that broke Maelstrom's record of three Jabez working together was the one that had turned Shellshock human. Goldbug and Rodimus had the pleasure of having six of those creepy bastards putting their bulging heads together to torment them.

"Shit! Lost count again!" Spike said out loud. "It's all this white! It makes me zone right out. Who needs a Conversion chip? These halls will turn me into a zombie by themselves!" Knowing it was useless to try to retrace his steps, Spike sighed and went to the nearest doorway.

Off to the side, cleverly disguised as exactly the same damned hexagon shaped tile as every other fucking part of this nightmare ship, was a pressure plate. Now he was supposed to send a signal by pressing and tilting the tile in a certain sequence. Apparently you could do almost anything from any doorway, including change the course of the ship. Shellshock assured him it wasn't as hard as it sounded.

Spike was unconvinced, but he tried. "Press twice gently on the top left corner, once firmly on the middle left corner, and firmly on the top right corner within two seconds," Spike instructed himself.

"Yes?" Roberts amused voice came at him from nowhere.

"I did it!" Spike cried, triumphant.

"No you didn't, but I've been watching for strange commands from that sector in case you decided to try!" Robert told him. "You actually set the self-destruct."

Spike sighed, not even dignifying the tease. "I'm lost again," was all he said.

"Heh. No you're not. You're there. It's the next door on the right," Robert told him. Talon's obnoxious guffaws joined the pilot's, and Spike knew this minor amusement would soon be spread to the entire crew. These people really needed to get some things to entertain themselves with.

He paused at the door Robert had so snidely pointed out. Did he really want to go in? Part of him was high on revenge. The plans he and Shellshock were working on were solid - and wicked. Rodimus the psychotic assassin would appreciate them, and would no doubt have plenty of his own embellishments. Unleashing him on some of Spike's political opponents would be sheer, blood-thirsty joy. Spike could taste it...but first he would have to get this door open wouldn't he?

Behind it, the being that befriended and killed Spike's son. The same being that had driven his wife completely insane by killing their son in front of her by putting his hand through Daniel's face and pulling a Conversion chip out of his brain.

Spike hadn't been there and hadn't even been allowed to view Daniel's body, but he had seen Rodimus use that move in other archived footage. He used it a lot actually. Lancer too. Apparently if you wanted to get information from a Conversion chip you had to take it out from the front. It gave you a few more fractions of a second to get to the chip before the self-destruct blew.

Spike leaned his head on a wall.

If Rodimus hadn't gone for the chip, Carly might be dead, not merely out of her mind. If he hadn't pulled it out from the front, the slavers who raped and murdered Daniel might never have been caught...but he could have moved Carly to safety first.

It had been a mistake.

Just a mistake.

Carly would never know him again. She would never hold him again, or fold his socks, or help him grieve for Danny, or ask him for a cup of coffee, or, or, or, OR! She could only scream.

Just a mistake.

The Prime title didn't mean perfection.

Just a mistake, but it was a mistake that had cost Spike everything.

Spike knew he was being irrational. He was like one of those damned human families that came to his door after some fight or another when someone died. He was Earth's ambassador and they came to him to complain and yell and threaten. Usually they picked one Autobot in particular to blame for the death of their loved one. The one that fell on their house, or stepped on their dog, or fired the shot that set off the gas main or the water line or whatever. They were always so hard to handle in their anger, grief, and hatred. He never understood the hatred part before.

The Autobots meant well.

In warfare things usually go badly, even when you win.

Spike always felt the families should blame the Decepticons, because the Cons were always the reason whichever Autobot fell, or shot, or stepped, or whatever. That they couldn't see past their immediate pain and their immediate target made him somewhat...scornful.

He understood them better now. Not so easy now, is it? Go ahead Spike...blame it ALL on the Slavers. Let go of the immediate target. Go on. Open the door, shake his bloody hand, and get on with vengeance!

If only Rodimus wasn't so fucking smart. Hell, the son-of-a-bitch was a fucking genius. Really. Spike and Carly had been among the few to see that right from the start, when Hot Rod was hacking his way into Magnus' scheduling records a few times a month to get out of trouble for missing inspections. Did it right from Magnus' own computer too. Never broke in the same way twice. Never got caught either. Magnus probably still didn't know. No one else would have dared. ANY one else would have been caught. Hot Rod made it routine.

Sunstreaker had composed some snide remark about Hot Rod's paint job early on. ('Streaker REALLY didn't like having humans turning heads over someone ELSE'S chassis...the two of them had a few very one sided fights shortly after Hot Rod was activated. Hot Rod got creamed.) After Hot Rod got his ass kicked a few times, SOMEONE hacked in and changed the duty roster. Sunstreaker got sent on Hound's off-road patrol-circuit. Then SOMEONE put paint remover in the Ark's car wash. The results were....cataclysmic. Sunstreaker's paint hadn't been completely removed, but it had run off his body in sticky streaks of oozing yellow and bare metal. The shrieks echoing from the carwash had reminded young Spike of his deceased mother when she discovered a live roach in the laundry.

It took three days of scraping and sanding to get all the half-melted paint off Sunstreaker's hull.

The perpetrator was never caught, but Sunstreaker had shut up about Hot Rod's flames, hadn't he? That evil grin had flashed on Rodi's face every time old Streaker went by for months.

Oh...and the time Hot Rod snuck a skunk into the ventilation system's at Daniel's elementary school so he and Danny could play hooky. By the time the enraged varmint was caught it had run all over the school, spraying near-indelible oil every time it was startled which then circulated through the AC and coated the walls and furniture. The whole school had to be scrubbed from top to bottom....and the students got a week off. Danny hadn't 'fessed up to that one until he was in EDC Academy. Carly had wanted to ground him anyway.

The boy claimed even Hot Rod was surprised about how well that worked. They'd been hoping for a day of illicit vacation time at most. Spike still couldn't figure out how Hot Rod pulled it off without getting sprayed himself. Not a whiff of it on him, while everyone in the school (including Danny) was taking tomato juice showers for days.

Genius.

How in the hell could Rodi have been so stupid?

Just a mistake.  
Spike ground his jaw.  
Just a mistake.  
Sure.

In the end it was neither resolution to his inner conflict nor desire for revenge on the slavers which made Spike open the door. It was just that he didn't want to have come all this way for nothing...and he didn't want to ask Robert for help getting back.

x  
x  
x

Rodimus sat with his back to the door, his feet up on the window frame, and his chin on one hand. He looked out onto the star-field without really seeing it. This deck was different from the rest of the ship - here the windows were expansive, and even Elita could have stood with no problem if she only could have reached the place. Everything was white of course, but the windows arced from the floor to more than half-way across the ceiling. The natural darkness of space seemed to counter the un-holy glare of Jabez construction.

So he sat on an over-tall Jabez chair, on a stolen Jabez ship that some might argue was their ultimate achievement, in a body that some might argue was really their ultimate achievement, hiding from, among others, his own child who still others might argue was the absolute Jabez ultimate achievement.

He thought about KC and tried to mourn for her but he wasn't ready yet. He always seemed to need time to miss someone before the fact of their death really hit home...smelly corpses not withstanding. Staying away from Edana seemed prudent right now. Staying away from everyone else was just habit.

So when the door opened behind him he was surprised. Lancer knew better. So did Magnus. Elita couldn't get out of her cargo area and was probably well and truly stir crazy by now no matter how serene she seemed. That one was not the sort to let grass grow under her wheels. The Maelstrom crew would go to Lancer before bothering him.

So who?

The person behind him took one step and he knew. He couldn't have been more surprised than if Megatron had shown up to announce that he was back, had discovered old-time religion, and was starting his own home-shopping channel for charity.

The window! Go for the window! Rodi's mind screamed in panic. True they didn't open, being on a space-faring vessel and all, but dying in the frozen vacuum as a Rodi-popsicle couldn't be all bad? Could it?

Spike coughed, as if to let Rodimus know he was there. He was amazed at the size of this room - you could have played regulation football on its expanse. Fortunately the entrance led to a ramp that came up in the center of the room. This deck was the roof of the ship.

There was almost nothing to see here - just huge windows and three white chairs up at the front. One held a statue that might have been a red-head if it was breathing. The ambassador hung by the door, almost afraid to intrude on the silence. He didn't mind bothering Rodimus, but the silence seemed to have something against him.

Finally Spike coughed again.  
Nothing.  
"Rodimus?"

"What do you need Spike?" Rodimus asked quietly, without turning around.

"How did you know it was me?" Spike asked. It was not the question he really wanted answered.

"Your footstep," Rodimus told him. They were hundreds of yards apart, but the room picked up their voices and threw them across the distance.

"Just one?"

"What do you need Spike?" Rodimus asked again. This time he turned around. He was pale, it made his eyes stand out more. Spike realized then that this warrior was afraid of him.

He was fine with that.

"Shellshock and I have been working on some strategies we'd like to discuss with you," Ambassador Witwicky reported. He approached Rodimus' chair and was not entirely sorry to see Rodimus flinch a bit....but Rodi's eyes narrowed and flared green...he was scared, but a bit defensive too.

Rodimus stared over his shoulder as Spike approached. He wanted some time to himself - a confrontation with Spike was not about to help him settle his mind.

"We can discuss that when we get back to Cybertron," Rodimus stated. "The whole council should hear your ideas, not just me."

"We wanted a member's input," Spike argued.

"Ask Magnus," Rodimus suggested.

"He doesn't think like you do," Spike rejoined.

"Try Elita. She's devious," Rodimus proposed.

"She doesn't think like you do either."

Rodimus whirled the chair around suddenly to face the man approaching him, every muscle coiled like a Sidewinder ready to strike. "What makes you think I can think at all with you around?"

"Because you're Rodimus Prime...and you do what you have to do, no matter who dies, gets hurt, or goes crazy - especially yourself," Spike taunted.

The figure in front of him suffered an obvious flash-back, then another.

Finally, Rodimus answered him in a voice that was low, flat, and murderous. "I really am crazy you know." It was a threat.

"Why do you think we want to talk to you?" Spike said, putting his face right in Rodi's. "Why don't you get your ass out of that chair and make your insanity useful for a change?"

Rodimus grinned - there was nothing happy about it.  
x  
x  
x  
Claudia, Lancer, and the kids were spending time together in Claudia's quarters. Lancer sat in a human style chair which Claudia kept in the vacant room next-door for visitors. Claudia sat on the floor with her over-long legs folded up next to her body and her resting hand on her shoulder in the way of her species. The other hand played with Alexandra on the floor. Alex was starting to walk pretty well now (oh the horror!) and found Aunty Claudia was really fun to climb.

Looked like this one had a penchant for high ground too. At least her first word had been "ma".

The two adults didn't talk much - that was the way Claudia liked it. Her species was largely non-verbal. Edana had been the one a few years back to tell her mother that Claudia liked company, but not all kinds of noise. Since that day, Lancer had gladly brought something quiet to do whenever she paid Claudia a visit. Given that she was still bruised from head to toe after Soundwave's audio assault, a quiet day and some help with the kids was just what the mutant wanted.

Claudia's rooms were strange to human eyes. Her species preferred to sleep suspended, so they had rigged a bowl shaped cargo net that hung from the ceiling. It was small, only about four feet across but when it was time to rest Claudia gracefully pulled herself up into it and curled her six foot height into a tiny ball, like a chick in an egg. She would stay in that position without shifting all night. Lancer would have thought that odd for any species except that Jordan did the exact same thing.

The floor was covered in some kind of plush, rust colored carpet made from crushed plant fiber, and the furniture was all made from naturally shaped tree trunk segments. Whichever way the tree had grown, the craftsmen had left intact. All of the drawers and compartments were worked in such way that they flowed with the curves. It made for oddly shaped but graceful furniture that was smooth and polished.

Lancer loved bringing her children here when they were learning to walk - no sharp edges on anything.

There was a water feature shaped like a male of Claudia's species, and a small collection of crystals Claudia called "singing stones."

Lancer had asked her friend about those once, long before her daughter had not so subtly told her to shut up.

"They help me concentrate," was all Claudia said at the time.

Now they brought the Matrix crystals to mind. Lancer sighed. Matrix crystals didn't sing - they read you your rights.

Edana flipped through a book meant for children much older than herself. Normally the girl devoured reading material at break-neck speed but today she was just thumbing through stuff with her head on the floor. Lancer wondered if Edana's unusual listlessness was due to the fever she was still running, or if the Eclipse incident was still upsetting her. Or maybe she was just plain old tired.

Claudia had told Lancer that much of empathy was just like using your other senses - you just felt stuff the way you just heard or smelt things, but tracking someone down by empathy alone was more work. You had to be constantly sorting and scanning through the signals around you to follow what you wanted like a bloodhound on a tail. It required a level of concentration and focus pretty much unheard of in your average six year old.

Of course, average would rarely be a good description for this kid, except for height. Edana was bright, and had learned to read very early, and there wasn't much to do on Maelstrom, so she got lots of practice. Lancer was doing her best to school her child but knew better than to take credit for the way the girl absorbed everything. Lancer suspected Edana had a photographic memory and estimated if she'd been enrolled in a school on Earth, she'd have been placed in the third or fourth grade academically, but socially....

We've got to find a way to get her off this ship, Rodi. She's a bird in a cage! She needs friends! Lancer sent to her mate.

They'd been over that stretch of road before, but this time Lancer's mate didn't even have the usual I know but how do we protect her.... arguments to throw at her. He wasn't "listening". All she got was feedback concerning KC.

In other words he was still sulking.

Lancer gave him the mental equivalent of a nice poke in the ribs.

Where are you? she demanded.

Observation deck alpha he returned sullenly.

Doing what? she sent, as if she had to ask.

The reply was his ceremonial black smear of bitterness, grief, and guilt.

Ah. Gonna be at that long, or are you still fond of doing Vector Sigma's dirty work on yourself?

He slammed his shields up.

Lancer caught her daughter watching her.

"What did he say?" Edana asked.

"Who?" Lancer wondered.

"Daddy, who else?" came the reply in a "Geez, Mom. Duh!" kind of tone.

"How did you know I was bothering your father?" Lancer asked.

"I can see it," Edana told her. "You get brighter when he talks to you. Is he still sad about KC?"

"Sure he is. We all are," Lancer said with a sigh.

Claudia looked up, "Where is he Lancer?" she piped.

"On the observation deck," Lancer answered, cutting herself off before she put "pouting" or "sulking" on the end of her sentence in front of her daughters.

"Why is he there?" Claudia had to ask.

"He's upset about KC," Lancer answered.

"We are all saddened by the loss of a brave soul, but we are not all on the observation deck," Claudia pointed out.

Lancer resigned herself and leaned over to whisper in Claudia's feather covered ear, "He's sulking...and he thinks he should stay away from Edana until he settles down."

Claudia surged effortlessly to her feet. "Why do you both do that? You do the child no good by hiding things from her! Grief is a normal emotion! How will she know how to grieve if not from her parents?"

"Uh..." Lancer said. "He's not exactly healthy in that respect either Claudia. Vector Sigma did a lot of tampering...."

"And you think this drive to be alone is not part of that? He isolates himself - even from you! If I was to try to manipulate someone for their lifetime to make them do as I wished, the very first thing I would do is to make them feel alone!" Claudia raised her overlong arms almost to the ceiling and the amputated stumps of her wings raised tents in the clothing at her shoulders. If she'd still had them, they would have mantled across the room.

"I never thought of that...." Lancer mused. "I always thought it was just how he handled things."

"Even if that were true it isn't healthy," Claudia toned.

Edana watched this exchange with that unnerving interest. "Dad always hides it when he's upset," she remarked. "Like Uncle Shellshock only not as much."

Lancer might have agreed but she was interrupted. Her eyes flared a bit involuntarily. On the observation deck, Spike had just walked in on her mate and she took some of the shock. Lancer felt Rodimus enter a state that frightened her...and one he couldn't "hear" her well in. Shrieking at him mentally didn't get her far, but it didn't stop her from trying as she ran full tilt from the room.

Continued in Part B


	2. Chapter 2

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part B

Continued from Part A

Spike knew he was playing with fire, and wasn't of a state of mind to care much...but...Carly's words came back at him. Not his own Carly's, but still. A version of his wife from an alternate reality had seen fit to try very hard to reach him. Spike suddenly realized he was in position to push Rodimus right over the edge and it was tempting, really it was...to see the being that drove his wife insane go down the same path...

Spike shook himself. No one would thank him for it, certainly his wife wouldn't, and whether or not Rodimus deserved it, the Autobots didn't. Edana and Alex certainly didn't.

Spike also suddenly realized he made himself sick. Was he really the sort of man who would pursue vengeance at any cost?

"So...basically you want to use me because I'm psychotic? Is that it?" Rodimus asked. "Do you really think that side of me makes sound decisions Spike? Which part of me do you think decided to kill your son in front of his mother?"

Spike grimaced and tried to back-pedal. "I didn't come here to fight with you. I'm not here to argue over what happened with Daniel. Someday, I need to hear your side of it...from you. Right now, we just want you to come work with us, and you owe me Rodimus! You owe me enough to pull yourself together and come help!"

"I owe you more than that," Rodimus told him. The assassin's voice was cold, tight, and very distant. "That doesn't mean I can give it to you."

"Well, you can give it a try," Spike said.

Rodi's eye's narrowed. "Fine. We will meet in Elita's hold in an hour."

"But..."

"I am not a one Bot show anymore Spike. I don't make these plans in a vacuum. Nothing we discuss can be acted on without the council so we might as well use the input of all those who are here. It will save us time," Rodimus said with finality.

Spike scowled, but nodded, and left the room, oddly disappointed. He had envisioned just the three of them, although he realized the council was a factor he had failed to take into account. Whatever the ranking Autobots did behind closed doors, Optimus Prime was still the only public mouthpiece. Spike was used to an Autobot army run by one, or at most two.

He also realized again with disgust that he had been looking forward to trapping Rodimus in a room between himself and Shellshock. This vindictiveness was an unpleasant side of himself he hadn't realized existed. He hoped no one else noticed.

Spike hoped in vain.

He stepped out of the observation deck, his mind already on turns and doorways, when he got shoved up against the wall by a demonic mutant.

Lancer grabbed him by the shirt collar and put her glowing eyes about an inch from his.

"Get this very clear, Ambassador Witwicky. I understand what you are going through and I sympathize, really I do, but you need to keep something very much in mind. I could tell you about everything that's at stake here with Earth, and the Autobots and all that, but none of it makes one fucking bit of difference. If you EVER do anything to deliberately drive my mate to the brink again, I will come after you. Your spouse is probably gone, but mine still has a chance, and I will defend him from anyone. Even you. Screw the Autobots. Screw the fate of our worlds. I'll defend him because I love him. Got that? I don't give a shit about how fucking defenseless you are. I'm no Autobot. I don't do noble. I am just a bitch with fangs where my family is concerned and I will tear you apart. Got it?"

Spike nodded, his eyes wide with surprise. He opened his mouth to apologize to her, but she didn't give him the chance. She growled, turned abruptly and walked into the observation deck. Spike shook his head, shaken. Not because she'd threatened him, but because he'd given her reason.

Carly's alternate's words came back to him. "Quit it! It isn't healthy! It isn't good for you!" He knew she was right. He knew hate was wrong, but he was just now starting to feel it, and see for himself how much damage it could do without him meaning it. Lancer had every right to defend her mate, and Spike knew she would, no matter what unsettled business there was between them.

He sighed, straightened, and resolved to do better, but this time he didn't bother with the map. He just pushed the stupid wall panel any-old way and let Robert's laughter guide him back.

x  
x  
x

Optimus Prime was feeling...irritable...or maybe rebellious. His partner and his mate had been gone for three days already and their absence couldn't have come at a worse time. He was being overrun with decisions that had to be made spur of the moment in terms of dealings with Earth's emissaries and his inter-galactic trading partners. It would have been overwhelming and confusing for anyone, even him, under the best of circumstances, but he wasn't exactly himself right now. Parts of his thought processes had been stripped away. Maybe the Sigma implants were never really his thoughts anyway, but they had been there, in many cases, for millions of years.

His mind was recovering, as if from surgery, and had not yet worked out how to function smoothly without the implants.

He also wanted to second guess everything.

Was that idea REALLY what he wanted to do, or was it a holdover from Sigma's influence?

Would the REAL Optimus Prime please stand up? We've got an imposter.

He spent more time than he could afford wondering what sort of leader Orion Pax would have made had he not been tampered with, and trying to decide what THAT Optimus Prime would have done.

He might never know...and felt a bit depressed about it, having decided that the Autobots deserved that un-hindered, fictional Optimus Prime, and the one they had wasn't ever going to be quite as good.

Was this how Rodimus had felt that first term? Competing with a ghost? At least now Rodi had a reality to get over awe of...and surely he had gotten over thinking Optimus was perfect a long time ago.

How was Optimus now going to accomplish that same feat comparing himself to...himself?

All he wanted was a few days to get his head in order and instead he had a hurricane of decisions and meetings and interviews which had to be handled immediately.

It was enough to make a 'Bot really, really cranky.

Should the first school be here in Iacon or somewhere less likely to be targeted?

Iacon. The school itself was probably going to be a target so put it where their defenses were already strongest.

Should medical facilities for new sparks be centralized or scattered throughout Cybertron?

Both. General medical training should be within reach at all times for Cybertronians of any age, but the specialists should be close to the major hubs. Starting with Iacon. Most new parents would want their youngsters close to the premier school, at least until there were more learning facilities open.

Make preparations for lots of Transformers moving their quarters around. Many would want to move into Iacon...others would want to move out to avoid the increased population...and the youngsters.

A surprising number of Transformers were expressing discomfort with the idea of young. They weren't opposed to it like Eclipse's gang had been, but it made them nervous and uncomfortable. Optimus assumed it was fear of the new. No one had a clue what to expect from young sparks. He suspected many would get over their jitters when younglings were more common-place.

After millions of years it was easy to get set in your ways.

Slag it.

He really couldn't concentrate very well and Kup had something he wanted to talk to Optimus about as well. Optimus groaned. He was tired, and the faint traces of headache still surfaced to bother him periodically, but at least he knew whatever Kup was worried about would be a legitimate concern.

x  
x  
x

"Gossip?" Optimus growled. "You came to bug me right now about gossip?"

"That's right," Kup said grimly. "Have you been paying attention to what they've been saying about Rodimus this week? Or over the last few months even?"

"No. I don't listen to that kind of news. I did catch some the other day but it's all nonsense. No one puts any credit to that stuff," Optimus said.

"That's a slagging load of scrap Optimus. I've heard so much I half believed it myself and I know him and I know about Lancer. These Paradronian idiots are three-chips shy of a mother-board and they'll believe anything. They don't know Rodi very well Optimus, and even the enlisted Bots that do are starting to repeat stuff. They think he's gone all Hot Rod on 'em again since you're back to run things."

"Hot Rod never acted like that either!" Optimus protested.

Kup shrugged. "You know that, and I know that.... I just want you to see what's happening. It's almost like what he had to deal with after you died only in reverse. The mythological Hot Rod is a hundred times more reckless and irresponsible than the reality ever was. It's undermining his credibility and yours too since you 'let it go on.'"

"Let WHAT go on? I had to FORCE him to go on vacation!" Optimus roared.

Kup shrugged again, "They take your silence as acknowledgment for his exploits."

"Exploits?! Pulling double shifts is a light day for him. Most of the time he goes non-stop until it's either recharge or drop dead! This is just stupid Kup! I have more important things to worry about than a bunch of out-right lies," Optimus growled.

"NO! You don't! Did it ever occur to you that Vector Sigma might be helping this along? I know you were using rumors to hide his activities against the Slavers but it has snowballed Optimus! You two are out of touch! You've been holed up in your silver room and the bits that get through are just the tip of the iceberg. They are dragging a Prime's reputation through the mud and it is costing you support here at home and on Earth!"

"You can't be serious..." Optimus said.

"Optimus....Matrix forbid something happen to you in the near future, because until we can undo some of this damage Rodi is in no position to take over," Kup informed him.

x  
x  
x

A few hours later:

"Yes of course we expect a small surge in population, but we feel our people will be responsible enough to use sound judgement on whether they are ready or not," Optimus Prime said, feigning patience he didn't feel. He had already answered the same question in various forms more times than he could count.

"Ah," Licity the reporter, a yellow, pink, and lime-green Paradronian femme, went on slyly. "So how much of that surge do you expect to attribute to your promiscuous partner? He's reported to have been seen at 3 different dance clubs last night."

Optimus went from bored to ballistic in .002 seconds without an instant's thought.

"That's IT! I've had it! I'm going to start pressing charges against anyone publishing unfounded gossip! This is NOT Earth! You do NOT get to insinuate anything you want! How could Rodimus be at night clubs all over Cybertron when he's not even ON Cybertron this week?"

Licity's smile suddenly looked a bit strained, but some of the others came to her rescue by asking Optimus where Rodimus was.

"That's classified," Optimus said grimly.

"How convenient," the candy-colored femme purred. "Are you sure you aren't just covering for a friend with too many 'dates'?"

"He is off-world," Optimus intoned ominously, "taking care of things which affect YOUR safety and livelihood. As for dates, he's already got a m...he's had one girlfriend for the last seven years, and he's damned serious about her, believe me."

As soon as he said it, Optimus knew Rodimus was going to kill him for yet another furor...but the senior Prime didn't care.

It was worth it to see that stupid candy-colored femme gasping and working her mouth like a stranded fish.

x  
x  
x

Jazz was sitting in the temporary communications center with Blaster when the senior Prime finished that interview by simply walking off and leaving hordes of frantic reporters shouting questions.

Jazz had been spending a lot of time with Blaster the last few days. The Specialist had been relieved of duty for a few days on Optimus orders when confirmation of KC's death had come in from the Maelstrom. Jazz had taken to just sitting in the communications room while Blaster was on duty.

Partly it was guilt that he had neglected their friendship. Partly it was a need for a friend to distract him from his grief. Jazz caught Blaster throwing him worried looks from time to time, but the communication's officer didn't pry. Jazz didn't know if that was a skill Blaster had as communications specialist or if he was just a good friend, but either way Jazz was grateful Blaster knew when NOT to talk. Blaster just went about his job and let Jazz sit there.

Jazz needed the company, but he couldn't talk about it, and he was surprisingly grateful for the time off.

Watching Optimus rant at reporters made Jazz wonder if Optimus didn't need the break more.

Any hint of Rodi and Lancer's relationship was considered above top-secret. If the Jabez even suspected the Maelstrom was involved with Cybertron in any capacity Cybertron would simply be eliminated. Simple as that. The last thing the young Prime ever wanted was anyone checking into how he really spent his private life.

"Oh..." Blaster said out loud to himself. "Oh! She's classified!"

Jazz stiffened in his seat and Blaster whirled to look at him. They stared at each other.

"That...that strange femme the night of the riots...." Blaster whispered.

Jazz grimaced, but didn't say anything.

"You can't tell me I'm right, but I am, aren't I?" Blaster said.

The two friends just stared at each other some more.

"That was one scary lookin' lady," Blaster said. "Rodimus has some nerve."

Jazz felt that Lancer's appearance spoke for itself, so he nodded.

"She's not an Autobot, is she?" Blaster remarked.

Jazz sighed and shook his head.

"Are they really serious?"

The Specialist looked piercingly at his friend, "They are as serious as it gets, on a lot of levels."

"No! They're mated? Why is she a secret then?" Blaster asked, a big grin on his face. "Because she's not an Autobot?"

"Blaster...Man, you need to be careful," Jazz warned.

Blaster drew back and nodded. "I can keep my mouth shut, but ... Optimus said seven years. He's been with her since he got back...he must have met her while he was missing.... Seven years...that's when things started getting weird around here."

"Blaster....Man...please..." Jazz pleaded.

Blaster looked sharply at his friend, hearing real fear in Jazz's voice. "That's when you went all X-Files on me too. I shoulda figured you weren't dissin' me."

Jazz hung his head, "I'm sorry."

"It's cool. I understand," Blaster said. Then he chuckled a bit. "So the Rodster hooked up with someone did he? Now that's amazing. She must be somethin' to keep his attention so long."

"Oh...she's something," Jazz muttered reluctantly. "Really Blaster, I can't..."

"I'm cool Jazz. I just feel like a sucker," Blaster said with something of a leer.

"A sucker? Why?" Jazz asked.

"Because I was starting to believe all those rumors about Rodi fooling around all the time. They surprised me, but not enough. I shoulda known better, but anyway there ain't no way he's cheating on that thing. I don't know who she is. I don't know WHAT she is...but you do not cheat on that and live."

"You have no idea," Jazz snickered.

x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:

"I can't believe he gave me a hard time about it! I can't believe he even hesitated!" Spike raged at Shellshock.

The former Autobot merely sat in his over-sized swivel work chair and stared at Spike, expressionless. The golden fingers were steepled and stiff.

"You are surprised he is reluctant to be around you? Are you also surprised to find he is reluctant to be around me?" Shellshock asked.

"I'm surprised he didn't jump at a chance to make things right!" Spike complained.

Shellshock smirked bitterly.

"OK...poor choice of words, but at least he could help with less...Oh quite smirking Shock! You know what I mean!"

"Do I?" Shellshock asked sardonically. "I was once of the opinion that the Primes could take anything. I was wrong. They have limits like everyone else. Maybe being alone with you and me to talk about the slave trade and everything else is too much to ask."

"After the way he let my family down NOTHING should be too much to ask!" Spike roared.

Shellshock was on his feet and in Spike's face as quick and silent as Lancer, except that the enormous man picked Spike off the ground and brought the Ambassador to him so that they were nose to nose. Spike's toes cleared the floor by about two feet.

"HE? What about YOU Spike? Do you exclude yourself from blame? DO YOU? You are Earth's Ambassador. You have access to everything the Autobots have - they exclude you from nothing. You are part of the trade agreements and shipping regulations that let the slavers pass. You have eyes! You have a mind to think with...and you can't even blame Vector Sigma for blinding you! You are like Kup! Making up lies for yourself to keep from seeing the truth! All of us are responsible! You can not stand on the side-lines with your head up your ass and then criticize those who try...even if they fail!"

"Missing children's reports line the walls of Central! Do you stop and look? The space ports are wallpapered from floor to ceiling with faces. Does no one on Earth notice? Does no one ask where can they all be? The evidence is everywhere but no one is looking! The council bites off more than they can chew but at least they are biting! You are only whining because it was YOUR son...YOUR wife! Their blood flows over him like a river and you go one about one! He is drowning! We are all drowning! We can not save them all!"

Spike's eyes were gaping, but he couldn't find anything to say.

"You have always said you occupy a meaningless position - that if the governments of Earth could stand hearing what is needed from a robot that you wouldn't be needed. Whose fault is that? Is it Rodimus' fault you didn't take your own role seriously? Is it Optimus' fault you never did more than shuttle messages back and forth and give him a human voice to speak with? Your son is dead? Your wife is mad? JOIN THE FUCKING CLUB! There are thousands of families who don't even have the closure of knowing their lost ones are gone! Some go crazy living with walking corpses who seem fine but aren't...and no one believes them! No one helps them! YOU REPRESENT THESE PEOPLE! They are YOUR followers...and believe me, the Autobot you accuse has done much more to protect them than you have!"

x  
x  
x

Char:

Viper came to very slowly. Her neural circuits struggled to connect what her optics perceived to the vocabulary which named it.

Face. That was a face.

More information laboriously worked its way together and she contemplated other words like "angry", "frustrated", "dangerous", and "superior".

This left her with just enough foundation to add consideration of a second face as well which coincidentally fit nicely with exactly the same descriptions as the first.

These faces were not the same though so she continued to struggle to classify them.

Eventually two more descriptive nouns came to mind. Cyclonus and Galvatron.

Well...that certainly warmed up her neural circuits a bit. Enough to speak maybe?

"Wha...what happened to me?" Viper asked.

"You need to tell us Viper! What did the Autobots want with you?" Cyclonus demanded.

"Autobots?" Viper asked. New word...it stirred up much too much. She slipped back into stasis for a moment.

When she came back on line they questioned her again, but her memory was hazy at best.

"What did Rodimus Prime take from you?" Galvatron demanded shrilly.

"He took something out of my chest!" Viper informed herself more than them. The memory was hazy, but extremely unpleasant and painful. She remembered the robot...the Autobot...Rodimus leaning his face close to hers while he hurt her.

She came up with a new word. Hate.

"We can see that!" Cyclonus said. "What did you have that was so important that they would come here after it?"

"I can't remember! What did he do to me? Why can't I remember?" Viper asked. Unconsciously, she hissed and venom spat across the room. It made a satisfying sizzle as it hit the wall. She liked it.

Someday Autobot. Someday.

"Are you sure you don't remember?" Cyclonus threatened. "You hid it from us all this time...."

Viper merely glared at him sullenly.

They ended up using Soundwave on her. The brush of his mind on hers was probing, violating...and hurt in a way that was almost familiar. In the end though, all he could tell his disappointed superiors was that the femme's mind was truly disjointed and that whatever information she'd had was gone.

At that point Viper witnessed Cyclonus carefully talking Galvatron out of killing her.

Viper was too disoriented to really be afraid, even though she understood her life was on the line. Instead she made careful notes on how Cyclonus handled his enraged commander with admiration. If she survived she would emulate the same techniques.

She also felt fury towards the Autobot who wounded her body and mind for making her vulnerable this way. The fury left no room for fear and she watched dispassionately while Cyclonus adroitly saved her life. They left her alone to put her mind back together.

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Elita, Magnus, and Rodimus dragged their way into Central's restricted section. None of them were low on energon, but they all felt exhausted anyway. Grief was still weighing them down, and the sessions with Shellshock and Spike hadn't helped. Oh sure, they had plenty of effective notions, but given the caliber of viciousness.... If some of these ideas had come from Pagan or Lancer it probably would not have bothered them, but having it coming from Bumblebee and Spike gave Magnus and Rodi surges.

They were all glad to be back to the more routine stress of their positions, and looking forward to the not so routine challenge of preparing for Cybertron's future generations.

No one was in the command center when they trudged in.

Elita looked around for her mate, a bit disappointed but not surprised that he wasn't there to greet them. "Optimus must be out setting things up," she said with affectionate pride. "This project means so much to him."

"It gives us all the first real hope we've had," Magnus concurred. "I'm sure he's gotten more done than we imagined possible."

"Well, let's see what the old bastard's been up to," Rodimus said with forced cheerfulness. He was still in a foul mood, and nursing a bit of a headache again. Concentrating on Spike and Shellshock's proposals rather than the emotional baggage between them had taken as much will as fighting through his Jabez memories. Sometimes it actually hurt, physically as well as emotionally. He was starting to worry he wasn't as done with Vector Sigma's implants as he hoped. "At least we can count on Op to hold down Cybertron while we're away."

He turned on some of the monitors to run the news on different networks - hoping to get a quick snapshot of his partner's progress.

One network was discussing the fallout from Optimus' "insulting" comments on human society.

Another was running analysis on the economic impact of his tirades at their trading partners.

Yet another was holding a panel of psychological experts discussing whether Optimus Prime was sound of mind or showing signs of mental breakdown.

Three were doing a case by case investigation into all of the rumors surrounding Rodimus Prime and holding serious discussion panels about whether the gossip news casts were out of control and damaging Transformer society in general and the standing of the Primes in particular. The screens were full of nervous looking "witnesses" who were confessing to having made up their stories, and a few tearful femmes who were being badgered into admitting they had never even met the young Prime.

The last network was running a list of possible candidates for Rodimus' "alleged" girlfriend and speculating about why they were keeping her under wraps.

Kup came racing into the Command Center and cussed as he transformed. They had beaten him back before he could warn them. All three of the returning Autobots were standing in front of the monitors with their jaws agape. The networks had so much Optimus ranting material it was as if they couldn't cover it all fast enough...so they were creatively splicing the highlights together.

"He's lost his mind," Elita whispered.

Before Kup could say a word Optimus Prime's resounding footsteps pounded into the Command Center. All three of his aghast friends turned to stare at him in mute shock.

"WHAT?" he snapped.

Continued in Part C


	3. Chapter 3

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part C

Continued from Part B

Maelstrom:

Malice was feeling grateful her powers were nearly back to full strength as Lancer's surged out of control and sent lightning against the bubble Malice was containing her with. Talon remarked the effect looked like one of those dumb lightning machines they sold at the mall.

x  
x  
x

Earth:

First Aid finished his second checkup on Arcee for the day and pronounced her fine. She hugged him in gratitude and solace.

Hotspot convened his ailing team and did his best to explain why their absent brother had to remain a stranger with mixed results. Streetwise seized on the knowledge that First Aid didn't WANT to be gone but had to, and that was enough for him. He was the most persistent pressing for more information, but also was the most content when Hotspot couldn't give him any. Streetwise even felt a bit proud of First Aid for being tapped for such a high level post.

Groove was another matter. Although he expressed relief First Aid wasn't angry with them, he grew even more depressed that their team was unlikely to be whole again soon - if ever.

Blades just transferred his anger to the command staff.  
x  
x  
x

Char:

Cyclonus and Galvatron walked back to the command center. They passed a few of the Stunticons as they did.

"I still don't see the point of it," Dead End was saying.

"Yeah! Who needs the competition?" Wildrider cracked.

"Don't you see? It would be useful for gaining loyal personnel... someone loyal to you as their life-source rather than ...." Breakdown's voice trailed off as the two ranking 'Cons walked past. His wide optics betrayed carefully controlled panic.

Neither officer acknowledged him, but neither forgot what they had almost heard either.

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

"What in the hell were you thinking?!" Rodimus Prime roared at his partner who just brushed past him and went to his office to sit at his desk.

"That your reputation has been mangled past all recognition! Kup brought it to my attention and Rodi, it is BAD. We wanted to deflect attention from your activities not destroy any credibility you ever had!" Optimus snapped as he threw himself into his chair.

Rodimus drew back a bit and looked to Kup for confirmation. The security chief nodded and brought up a series of video clips from some of the less reputable networks. The veteran knew Rodimus was likely to be doubtful, so he picked some good ones, starting with a fine bit of reporting on secret orgies between Rodi, Arcee, and Elita. Rodimus folded his arms across his chest and watched without a word, but his optics got greener as the clips progressed.

"You're saying the Paradronians are buying this?" he finally growled.

"Even some of the enlisted Autobots who've served with you are buying it Rodimus. It's so widespread...." Kup said apologetically.

Rodimus looked at Kup sharply. "Wow...that's special...Didn't take much did it?"

"Don't take it personally," Optimus started.

"You want to let me know how not to? I don't care one way or the other what the Paradronians think of me! They don't know me, but you would at least think the Autobots I've worked with would give me the benefit of the doubt! I've spent the last seven years up to my spoiler in blood and shit and they think I've been getting cozy with every femme in the quadrant! Including Elita and Arcee!" Rodimus snarled. He glanced at Elita. She wore an expression like a mushroom cloud. His headache got worse again.

"Rodimus you never protested any of it! They are assuming your silence means agreement! Besides, we think Vector Sigma might have been encouraging the rumors. We already know it worked against your acceptance as leader...this might just be another way to undermine you! I had to do something!" Optimus insisted.

"Fine. I agree, but you DIDN'T have to tell them about Lancer," Rodimus griped. "You're just lucky she's on the Maelstrom...she's having a fit!"

"I didn't tell them about HER per se, I just said you had a serious relationship. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I didn't have lots of time to contemplate my responses!" Optimus defended.

Rodimus glared at his partner and then at the monitors around them - where the networks were showing Optimus tearing into human diplomats about their breeding practices.

"Your mouth has run away with you!" Rodimus stated.

"They were trying to tell US how many young we could have. You would have done the same thing!" Optimus challenged.

"Which is precisely why YOU are in charge of the diplomacy! I've never seen you act like this! What were you thinking?! Really Op, have you lost it or what?"

"Lost it? Did I ever HAVE it? I'm not sorry for ANYTHING I said Rodi! If the humans don't like us pointing out their disgusting complacency towards each others' suffering then maybe they should DO something about it! Our trading partners have been using us for years and I'm done with that too. As for you and your mate, I'm sorry but you are my partner and I will not be ignoring any more slander! You can promote your frivolous off-duty image if you need to, but for them to imply that you are violating Springer's friendship by trysting with Arcee, or that you would ever consider siring young without supporting them is too much! They are insulting Arcee and Elita in the process! You are a Prime! That has to stand for something! As for what I was thinking who knows? I've had Vector Sigma in my head so often I'm not sure if anything is mine to think with!"

Rodimus frowned at his partner. Everything Optimus said was merely truth, but the last admission was the most telling. He felt sick suddenly, realizing they had left Optimus to fend for himself when his mind was surely in turmoil.

"OK. Fine. It's out now anyway and I'll just have to deal with it, but are you all right?" Rodimus asked.

"NO! I'm not! I've got holes in my mind, an assassin for a partner, and another for a mate! Both of you give me the surges every time you sneak up on me...and now MAGNUS is starting to walk quietly too! It's unnatural! KC's dead. I've got Jazz throwing things around my office, Perceptor's in a complete funk, and Springer says we need to go to Earth to deal with the Protectobots because they can't handle losing First Aid! I'm getting propositions from Paradronian femmes who want a Prime's offspring. I've got news people trying to break into my trailer to interview Roller. Swoop is going to get us sued if he drops one more worker at Metroplex into the moat and Grimlock has decided tossing humans with microphones around with his teeth is a new sport!"

"Err..." Rodimus got out, trying to decide which of those complaints to address first, but that was as far as he got.

Optimus Prime, stoic, composed Autobot Commander, lost any trace of composure or stoicism.

He stood up, pounded on his desk, and launched into a non-stop string of grievances and complaints dating back nine million years. He went on for the better part of an hour without pause or interruption about everything from Gear's complaining, to Huffer's whining, to Sunstreaker's vanity.

"And where did Ironhide get a Texas accent? He had it on Cybertron before we ever came to Earth!" Optimus roared, gesturing wildly with both hands over his head. "I about overloaded when I found a whole segment of Earth's population that talked like that! Then there's Slag! I feel guilty every time I have to call him by name! What WERE Ratchet and Wheeljack thinking naming that poor Dinobot a cuss-word? No wonder he's always cranky!"

Optimus went on to tell Rodimus a few things about his paint job, and Magnus a few things about his never-ending inspections and reports. On and on he ranted and the four of them stood there, afraid to move, as Optimus got millions of years of repressed afflictions off his chest.

Finally Rodimus dared move enough to catch Elita's optics and was a bit surprised at what he saw there...laughter. He could see from her optics that her neutral expression was forced and cracking. He couldn't help himself and when she noticed him looking at her, he flashed a quick grin and then put a serious "leader face" back on.

Elita bit her lip. Not a single thing Optimus was saying surprised her and she felt the rant was long overdue. Plus, she couldn't help it. She thought in his fury and indignation, that her mate was damned cute.

Magnus refused to look at Rodimus which told the young Prime that Magnus was close to cracking too. Only Kup looked genuinely worried.

When Optimus finally stopped to think for a second, Rodimus asked impertinently, "Better now?"

Optimus snagged his rifle off his desk, caught himself, and simply threw it at his partner.  
x  
x  
x  
Char:

Cyclonus paced the command center, lost in thought.

All around him discipline was unraveling. Rumble and Frenzy were brawling with each other almost at his feet. Usually this would have resulted in a sharp word, or at least a sharp kick to separate them. He didn't care what they did off-duty but the command center was supposed to be all business.

Today Cyclonus didn't seem to see or hear them. (They would both end up regretting that. They always counted on someone breaking them up so that neither would have to concede defeat, but Soundwave was recharging and Galvatron liked to watch them fight. This fight lasted much longer than most and both ended up in repair bay.)

Galvatron was being unusually quiet. He watched his second pace back and forth - not unlike Adder did when Viper was pacing.

Cyclonus barely noticed that either, although one part of his mind was always watchful and wary of a change in his leader's mood.

Nothing was adding up.  
Nothing at all.

Why would the Autobots have risked their lives to take something from Viper? What could she possibly have had? If it was so important why hadn't they come for it right after she defected? Had they simply not noticed until now? What had they done to disrupt the femme's mind?

Rodimus' attack on her seemed so brutal...so...personal. So very unlike a Prime.

News from Cybertron was getting weirder too.

First there were "news" reports that Rodimus was being spotted all over Cybertron starting fights and enticing femmes. Cyclonus immediately decided that these rumors were being used as cover - since he knew full well the only femme Rodimus had his hands on that day was Viper.

If these rumors were hiding Rodi's actions this week, were all the other reports cover as well? If so, where had Rodimus been? What had he been doing?

Just as Cyclonus was making up his mind that all of the rumors were a carefully crafted ruse, Optimus Prime got on camera and blew the cover, denouncing the rumors and threatening to bring charges against anyone making a false report. He even went so far as to claim Rodimus had a near-mate already.

If so, the reporters were asking, who was she and why wasn't she coming forward?

Cyclonus wondered too. He would have assumed any femme who landed a Prime would want to show off her achievement. Surely it would gain her favors and influence and might dissuade other femmes with notions of snaring Cybertron's heir apparent.

Then, for no reason he could name, Cyclonus wondered about the strange report Soundwave had given them...of an invisible robot he had found just before Rodimus snuck up on him. Rodimus....snuck up on Soundwave. Cyclonus had such a hard time computing that fact that he'd almost forgotten what Soundwave was telling them. That there had been a fourth intruder - invisible, feminine, and sporting a human heart-beat.

Could Rodimus' secret girlfriend be organic?  
That was just too disgusting.

What had brought Galvatron down though? What had Soundwave found? If she was human it might explain the secrecy, but if she was human.... Cyclonus shook his head and felt foolish. Obviously he was glitching to pursue that line of thought. Optimus Prime was acting downright erratic, the Paradronians were restless, the Autobots were scrambling, the humans were grumbling, and here he was speculating on Rodimus Prime's love life?

Cyclonus shook his head again and straightened. What he needed was information, and he wasn't going to get it on Char.  
x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

"Yes, of course he was telling the truth," Rodimus said impatiently to the cameras following him. He made them run to keep up with him, since he obviously wasn't going to stop. "Who do you think he is? Swindle?"

Blitzwing, who was trying to clear a path for him, turned and grinned appreciatively at that one, although for the first time since joining the Autobots, he was seriously thinking of stepping on a few humans. Accidentally, of course.

"But then why are there so many reports from people claiming to have...er...spent the night with you?" Even the Paradronian reporters were having trouble keeping up as he made sadistic use of his long stride. The humans were positively gasping trying to match his brisk walk with all of their equipment.

"I dunno. Maybe you should ask them," Rodimus said, with a hint of a sneer. "It's amazing how much fun I've been having when I'm not around. I sure wish I could remember...oh wait! I wasn't there."

"All these years and you've never said a word on the subject and now we're supposed to believe you've had no hand in it?" This from the candy-colored femme Optimus had confronted earlier.

Rodimus stopped and did a good job looking angry. "What I say and what people will believe have no relationship with each other. We could present irrefutable proof I wasn't anywhere near Cybertron this week and people would still believe what they want. I am no stranger to a good time, sue me, but I do not cheat with my friends' mates and I would never just use people the way so many of you like to believe. Would the Matrix choose someone like that? Would it?"

He drew himself up and continued, "Besides, do you really think I'm stupid enough to mess with Prime's mate? Do you think she'd let me? Forget about what Optimus would do! Have you seen that femme in action? After millions of years being separated but loyal, do you seriously think she's gonna mess around with me? I'm young enough to be her son! Do you think I would have survived even making an improper suggestion? For everyone's safety, let's be clear...she is livid about these so called 'reports.' Elita is not going to press charges on the next person who insinuates she's unfaithful to Optimus - she is going to SET charges. Big ones. Arcee will help, if she doesn't just blast someone first. Are you people nuts? Don't you know who you're dealing with?"

"That rumor has been circulating for years...why would they be getting upset about it now?"

"Yeah...um. No offense to you network...actually...go ahead and take offense, I'm sure she won't mind, but like, Elita One, Autobot warrior, doesn't like, ya know....watch your crap. Ever. Oo...neither do I. I haven't asked Arcee, but I'm fairly certain with all the work I dump on her on a daily basis she's had to give up gossip shows along with her slagging manicures. Wait...Autobots don't get manicures...I wonder what she's been up to all these years...it's not like there's a war going on! Hmm?"

"There's no cause for being rude!" Licity protested.

"Oh really?" Rodimus simpered, "I did some checking, you sherbert-colored bitch, and some of those lovely three-some rumors were posted under YOUR internet alias! Ah...don't ask me how I know...a good hacker keeps his secrets. Now...you want to tell me to my face how you 'witnessed' me violate the trust and the mates of my friend and my partner? I've got proof it was you and I've got proof of where I was and where they both were. Do it again and I may pay you a personal visit where we can redefine your idea of 'rude'."

The Paradronian stammered and knew she would soon find herself under scrutiny. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Rodimus went on as if she didn't exist. "I always knew there'd be gossip, especially since so many people find me unorthodox. Optimus and I talked about it a long time ago and on his advise I decided to ignore it. Arguing about it seemed more likely to lend credence to a lot of the rumors. We thought the talk would fizzle out. Guess we were wrong. I'm always busy, and honestly I didn't even hear most of what was being said. It seems lots of people have nothing better to do than talk about this stuff. I am not one of those people."

"What about this supposed femme Optimus Prime mentioned?" Licity demanded. (The others were unusually quiet. They were deciding to let these two interact on their own since most of them were now planning to make their fellow reporter PART of their stories.)

Rodimus frowned. "What about her? She's a private person. She doesn't like attention, and she doesn't like a lot of nasty gossip. Gee...I wonder why?" Rodimus said coldly. "I will say I feel sorry for anyone who tries to invade our privacy. I am angry with this mess. She is worse, believe me. You would be putting her life in danger and trust me, she will not take kindly to that."

"Will you officially bond with her? Will there be offspring?"

"I'm sorry. Which part of 'None of your business?' am I being vague about here?" Rodimus asked.

"We have a right to know!"

"No, you don't. My kids...if and when I decide to have them will be targets of everything from the Decepticons to vultures like you. You heard me. Vultures. Optimus is right about one thing. If anyone comes up with another unfounded report about my private life I'm pressing charges. I've already been hit with a paternity suit and the femme in question isn't even with spark. She is, however, in detention. Believe me, now more than ever if I ever have a child they will be state secrets, just to spare them from having to put up with this kind of circus. OO...and while I'm on the subject, you'd best watch your step with Arcee and Springer's kid too. You've got OPTIMUS Prime having tantrums with this nonsense...and he's the patient one. I've got the nasty temper, remember?"

"Is that a threat?" an Earth reporter asked shrilly.

"Um...lemme think. Yup," Rodimus said. "Done now. Go away."

If anything the swarm of questioners crowded closer.

Rodimus threw Blitzwing a look and they both transformed. Blitzwing tried tank mode first but when they didn't move he took to the air and circled around behind Rodimus' vehicle mode. Diving low, he barely cleared Rodimus' roof and hood. Blitz was clearly going too fast to stop and even the most stubborn reporters dove out of the way, clearing a path for Rodimus who gunned his engine hard the instant he had open road. He left them with an unnecessarily nasty cloud of exhaust and earned several of them large fines from the ECC for words they shouldn't have used on air.

Enlisted Autobots on Earth and Cybertron watched in amazement. They were a bit shocked, but those that had been harboring doubts felt both relieved and a bit guilty for doubting. Then the cheering started.  
x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:

Watching from on board the ship, Shellshock smiled grimly. He finished packing up the last of the extensive notes he and Spike had thrown together and prepared to leave for Cybertron. Spike was already there, visiting Carly at the hospital.

"You gotta admit, the boy has style," Talon mused.

"*TK*" Pagan clacked.

x  
x  
x

Char:

Cyclonus waited until he got a rare break in his schedule - one where two of his off shifts happened to come back to back. He made some off- hand remark to Scourge about needing to get out of the base to think. True enough, but he wouldn't be tromping through the ruins of Char like Scourge would expect.

As soon as he had walked far enough to avoid being seen or heard, he transformed, and headed for Cybertron.  
x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

"Well, that solves one part of this mess," Rodimus said smugly, coming into the Command Center with a sadistic grin on his face.

"You are delusional if you think that's going to end it," Optimus remarked. He was holding his temples again.

"It won't solve it, but it will open the door for counter-arguments," Rodimus said. "With Sigma out of the picture it will be harder for people to get suckered, and with us threatening charges there will be a sudden drop in claims too."

"I hope you're right," Optimus said.

"Uh-huh. Why are you holding your head?"

"I have another headache," Optimus confessed.

"Again?"

"I found another implant," the senior Prime said softly.

Rodimus sighed and sat down on the edge of Optimus' desk. "If it makes you feel any better, I've found a few too."

"Why would I feel better about that? We've got to patch up your reputation Rodi. I afraid by the time I'm done pulling Vector Sigma's meddling out of my mind there won't be anything left to think with," Optimus said weakly.

"You'll be fine," Rodimus assured him. "At least the self-destruct program seems to be a one time thing."

"I feel so violated," Optimus confessed.

Rodimus grimaced and didn't answer but for the first time in a very long time Optimus felt the Matrix respond to his partner. The elder Prime took strength from Rodi's understanding and compassion. Had it really been so long since Rodimus had projected these emotions or was it just that Optimus had ignored such whispers in the last few years?

For his part, Rodimus didn't sense anything, but he did notice that at least Optimus was confiding in him, instead of turning on him.

"You'll be fine," he repeated as if in prayer.

"So who do we want to upset next?" Optimus asked with resignation.

"Well, I thought maybe it was the Protectobot's turn. I talked to Springer. I'm not sure I like the way he handled Hotspot but given how we've been behaving I suppose Spring-o only has our sterling examples to go by," Rodimus said ruefully.

"Maybe you and Magnus should go without me. I don't trust my own judgement right now," Optimus said.

Rodimus evaluated him uncertainly. "Are you too ill, or are you just second guessing yourself?""

Optimus glared at him.  
"Well?" Rodimus asked.

"I'm not that ill, but I have reason to question my judgement," Optimus said.

"Then you're going. Wallowing in self-doubt never got me anywhere, so let's just skip that part shall we?"  
x  
x  
x

A few short hours later, and Magnus joined them outside of Protectobot HQ, currently in Miami. Magnus had informed Hotspot to make sure all of the team was there, but hadn't told him why. Hotspot wasn't stupid and prepared for a long-overdo official visit...from Magnus. The Protectobot leader was in for a surprise.

"I've had enough of Miami," Rodimus sighed. "Too much traffic."

Magnus growled assent, and punched the door buzzer with an oversized digit.

Streetwise answered, took one look at all three of the top commanders looming in the doorway and froze.

"Um....Hotspot...." he managed.  
x  
x  
x  
First Aid looked up from where he was irritably reorganizing Metroplex's med-lab. Pipes obviously had different standards than he did for "well-placed and well-stocked" medical supplies. The list of things that were running low (in First Aid's opinion) was distressingly long. He didn't get direct feed-back from his brothers very often, but he knew shock when it hit him.  
x  
x  
x  
Cybertron:

Cyclonus' feet touched down lightly on Cybertron's surface for the first time in years, unseen, unheard.

His home was looking beautiful, he admitted reluctantly to himself. Say what you want about the cowardly Paradronian Autobots, they could spiff up a place in a hurry. Last he'd been in this sector, it had been uninhabitable.

Now it glowed with lights from many residences and businesses.

The Decepticon second didn't know how fortunate he was to be here undiscovered. Two weeks ago, he would never have left Char without KC sending up red-flags in advance. The Autobot command staff would either have concocted an emergency for him to deal with or arranged for an Autobot patrol to "stumble upon" him and chase him home. Even if he had made it as far as Cybertron, Vector Sigma's security cameras would have picked up on him instantly and he would have been swarmed at once.

KC was dead. Vector Sigma was dead. Its cameras operated, but no one was watching and Cybertron was open to intrusion in a way it hadn't been since Rodimus returned home human. It was Cyc's one opportunity to invade and he was taking it unwittingly.

Cyclonus waited patiently in the shadows for a break in the nearly constant foot traffic on the surface. Finally getting one after nearly an hour of kneeling, he slipped into the tunnels under Iacon.

Continued in Part D


	4. Chapter 4

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part D

Continued from Part C

Earth:

The Protectobots stared at their doorway, then each other in shock and confusion. A visit from Magnus, who had been their direct superior was the most they'd expected, but to have him flanked by not one, but two Primes left them speechless.

Mostly.

Blades snorted and muttered unintelligibly.

Optimus strode in and sat at the table in their common room, Magnus stood behind him a few paces back towards the door, and Rodimus slid in behind them to lean against the console on the far side of the room opposite Optimus Prime.

Hotspot had the nervous certainty they had just been surrounded. It made him even more cautious and suddenly fearful for his team. What would happen if this didn't go well?

Springer's words rushed back to pounce on him and gnaw. "Defensor's gonna be history." The Protectobot leader wondered all at once if he should have taken those words literally.

Too bad he couldn't share his insights more directly with Blades who was too furious to read anything into the company they were abruptly keeping. All he saw was targets for his angst.

"You bastards have a lot of nerve just marching in here...after what you did to us!" He instinctively headed for Rodimus - the youngest, the smallest, and in his mind, the most lazy.

Magnus moved as if to stop Blades but Optimus shook his head.

"First Aid has work to do," Rodimus said quietly. "The rest of you are unfortunately collateral damage, but that doesn't change anything."

"Work to do?!" Blades screamed, punching Rodimus in the chest, "Don't tell me he's got work to do when you spend all of your time partying! I don't believe that slag you spewed on the news!" He punched at Rodimus again, but while the young Prime had taken the first hit without moving this time he grabbed Blades by the arm and flipped him effortlessly to the floor. All Blades knew was one minute he was standing on his feet, and the next he was on his back with Rodimus sitting nonchalantly on his chest.

Magnus moved again, optics wide. This time Optimus literally put a hand out to stop him.

Rodimus had one foot up under Blades' chin, and he sat there with his own chin on his knee, looking down at Blades for a long moment before speaking.

Finally he said casually, "You don't know what First Aid's been up to: don't think for a second you know what I've been up to. He's not on your team anymore. He's on mine." The smile he threw at Blades was anything but friendly. Rodimus smoothly got up, grabbed the stunned Protectobot by the arm, hauled him to his feet, and tossed him one handed into a chair so hard the chair creaked and bent under the impact. Rodimus went back to his former spot and stood there, unmoving and expressionless.

Magnus' shoulder struts sagged a little and Hotspot was struck that the stoic Autobot was the one showing the most emotion. Optimus hadn't twitched, but Magnus was clearly relieved. What was he afraid of?

They aren't just here to talk to us! Hotspot realized. They're here to decide about us! Unbidden that realization brought on an image he couldn't prove and had no basis for, but was certain of nonetheless. They were on trial and the three senior officers were the judge, the jury...and the executioner. Optimus, Magnus, Rodimus.

He looked to Optimus to contradict his instincts, as if the senior Prime should reprimand his second for being so...blunt, but Optimus said nothing. He met Hotspot's stare though, as if he read the Protectobot leader's thoughts.

Blades stubbornly held onto his bravado. "So are you jerks here to tell us about First Aid or what?"

"No," Optimus said. "We are not going to tell you about First Aid. Don't be stupid Blades. You should know we would never split and weaken one of our combiner teams without reason. This is a serious as it gets. First Aid is where he needs to be and you are not privy to any of it. Insubordination will not be tolerated."

"We are here to see what we can do for you," Ultra Magnus said, "but you must accept that we can't tell you anything."

Groove withered, ducking his head and wrapping his arms around himself like a chilled human. "Will he ever come home?"

Optimus' optics softened a little. "Maybe...if we win."

"And if you don't win?" Blades snapped.

"Then you will be too busy being dead to worry about it," Rodimus said, smiling that ugly smile again.

Blades finally caught up with Hotspot's fear. "What...what are the odds of that?"

"A lot higher than the odds First Aid will come back to you," Rodimus intoned. "Believe me, none of us wanted to hurt you guys, but it is over. He's the only one with his qualifications we can trust. If we can ever release him you will be the first to know. This discussion is over. Don't mention him again."

"Tell us what we can do to help you," Optimus said, his voice reflecting the finality in Rodi's words.  
x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Ratchet was really, really bored. First Aid had been gone for days and it seemed everyone had forgotten about him. Alone in the dark, with nothing to occupy him, he realized there had never been a time in his life where he had nothing to do, even if it was only tidying up Med-Lab, or (shudder) Wheeljack's lab.

Knowing that he was merely a copy and that the "real" Ratchet was back in his home dimension hanging out with Wheeljack didn't help. Surely they were up to their necks in research on the Matrix crystals, frustrated, fascinated, and loving every damned minute of it. He wondered if that Ratchet would ever suspect he accidentally duplicated his own mind and left it to rot inside this damned hunk of rock.

The term "stir crazy" never made any sense to Ratchet before, but he felt going nuts was inevitable unless things changed...soon.

He'd given up pacing and stomping his feet. Useless. He couldn't even make a satisfying noise on the table with light-based limbs.

Angry, bored, and feeling abandoned he glared around him, longing for a blaster to destroy something with. The crystal projecting him pulsed and glowed with his anger and suddenly one of First Aid's medical tools flew across the room, landing with a clatter in the direction he'd been staring.

Ratchet blinked, cocked his head to one side, and then slowly a huge grin crossed his holographic face.

It seemed he had something to study after all.

A few hours later, Perceptor let out a startled gasp of surprise when the monitors in his lab suddenly all lit up on their own.

Ratchet's face stared at him from every screen.

"HAH! I did it!" Ratchet cried in triumph.

Perceptor just stared.

"Wha...?" he managed. Concentration was beyond him today. He had resolved to organize his lab, but grief seemed to overrun his ability to focus on even the simplest decisions. Really, he had only succeeded in rearranging the mess, not reducing it.

"Perceptor? Look! If I concentrate I can access the computer network! I can even move objects!"

Perceptor just stared at him.

Ratchet cocked his head again. Not the response he was expecting at all.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Perceptor fell to his knees and cried incoherently.

"Oh...looks like you need a project even more than I do," Ratchet said.  
x  
x  
x

Cyclonus crept slowly down into the tunnels beneath Iacon. Only rarely did he have to struggle to hide as some reconstruction worker or another went by. He didn't know where he was going or exactly what he was looking for, and debated going back up to the surface or snatching one of the workers to question them.

Evidence of the recent riots was not as prevalent as he expected. From the broadcasts they'd seen on Char, it seemed that the riots had been widespread and chaotic. He expected damage everywhere. Instead he found isolated pockets of workers efficiently erasing the clues he was hoping for,

Cyclonus scowled furiously. Paradronians. Pacifistic scum. How he scorned them! Yet, in his honest way, he had to concede that their return to Cybertron was what really had tipped the war for the Autobots. Up till then, it had been a more even fight, although the Earth alliance was growing more effective for the Autobots as time passed. In the end though, it was the stinking Paradronians that made things look so bleak to Cyclonus, even though few had actually enlisted.

There they were, scrubbing and fixing, leaving the Autobot army free to concentrate on winning the war.

You would not see Optimus Prime cleaning gun batteries or changing light fixtures as Cyclonus had to do. When things broke down on Char, the warriors had to become maintenance droids.

It was demeaning. He sighed and put his mind back on his mission.

Central obviously was one site in need of repair. There was a lot of work going on around the building. He saw workers repairing a gaping hole on one side, and clearing away signs and debris in the surrounding area. No surprise there, but those were due to the second riots - the breeding riots. Cyclonus almost understood why the announcement of inter-Transformer reproduction would upset people who worshiped Vector Sigma. Almost...but the news frenzy to cover the breeding riots and the controversy the Primes were setting off had pushed the prior unrest off the airwaves. Cyclonus wanted to know what set the first commotions off.

No one seemed to be looking for answers about those disturbances anymore. Whether Optimus Prime's remarks on humans were "demeaning" or whether Rodimus Prime had a mate seemed to be much more interesting to the human and Cybertronian news networks.

Idiots.

Cyclonus was not so easily distracted.

He was looking for answers and finally decided where he wanted to start.

There was the yawning fissure in the surface nearby. Reports on the first riots had blamed Omega Supreme, but no real explanation had been given as to why the former guardian would do that. "Mass hysteria," had been blamed for a lot of what went on.

Sure. Omega Supreme just got caught up in the emotion of it all.

Seeing as how that Autobot made Soundwave look warm and fuzzy Cyclonus was a wee bit skeptical of that.

Really, was he the only being wondering about all of this?

Creeping through the tunnels, he finally came upon the gap.

Deep.

Omega sure did know how to make an impression, but from the looks of things he had hit this area more than once.

Checking around, Cyclonus saw most of the work was being done beneath him since his chosen tunnel emptied out about three quarters of the way from the bottom. That made sense. The Autobots would need to rebuild their way from the foundations up. Glancing up, he could see the faint glimmer of a force field covering the gap above him. That made sense too, given how ninety-five percent of Cybertron's current residents couldn't fly, and most of those that could needed a vehicle mode to do so.

Poor things, he thought, mouth twitching.

He kept an optic out for workers beneath him and silently glided out into the pit. He rose and fell somewhat erratically, sometimes clinging to the sides amongst the wreckage to hide from passing Paradronians below.

Nothing seemed out of place. The tunnels he inspected were partially inhabited. Signs declaring some residences unsafe ran along each tunnel for a distance starting at the pit. At varying points for each level, he could see barricades further down, no doubt marking the point Paradronian engineers felt the tunnels were safe to walk in. Each tunnel had a uniform space between it and those above and beneath it.

He sighed. Efficient Cybertronian design - no wasted space. Really... he hated Char.

Just as he was beginning to think he was wasting his time he arrived at the upper reaches of the chasm. He was nervous that someone might see him so close to the surface and was about to turn around when he noticed a break in the pattern of tunnels.

Between two of the top-most tunnels there was a gap on either side of the pit...just the right height for another tunnel.

He frowned.

There was nothing there but more wreckage, but why the gap?

He floated there, puzzling about a possible structural need for extra strength here when a squad of Paradronian workers crossed the pit underneath him. Cyclonus swiftly swooped over to cling to the side...and went right through the wall.

He gasped in surprise and crashed to the floor...right next to a hologram projector. Staring around him he saw a long, door-less corridor leading straight down into the heart of Cybertron.

"Now I'm onto something!" he grinned.  
x  
x  
x  
Spike sighed and tried not to feel too disgusted as Paradronian workers installed a door that was clearly even more blast-proof than the last. He wondered what Carly would say about it if she ever came home since it was quite simply the ugliest thing he had ever seen. Clearly Rodimus had decided to drop the subtleties where the Witwicky home on Cybertron was concerned. That door meant business the way Magnus meant business, looked almost as heavy, and was sure to scare off solicitors on attitude alone.

That gave him pause...what about his homes on Earth? There was the property in Washington which he had been planning to give to Daniel when he got married, the winter house in Florida, and the outrageously expensive yet tiny little apartment he had to keep in New York to be near the UN building.

Spike would bet his liver Rodimus had made improvements in all three.  
Sneaky bastard.  
Carly would flip....

Of course Carly was already as flipped as you could get wasn't she?

He had told himself, on the way to see her, not to get his hopes up, just as he did every time he went to visit. As before, he ignored himself and got his hopes up anyway.

Since she was hospitalized he had never once failed to go see her every day until this week. Had she noticed? Had it hurt? Had it somehow helped?

Walking into her room and seeing her, hands bound, sitting up senselessly in bed and tied into position, he realized he might as well have been gone five minutes. Nothing had changed.

Not her lank grey/blonde hair going white at the roots.

Not her slightly slack lips that had lost their color and blended into her face.

Not the slight rocking he sometimes thought he imagined.

Not her pale blue eyes which stared...somewhere. Not at him, no matter where he sat or how he turned her head.

Tears welled up in Spike's eyes and he angrily turned away from the stupid workers hanging a stupid door on a stupid place that hadn't protected anyone who lived there. What difference did the door make when the demons were already inside? He stormed into his office and slammed that door with all his might, taking somewhat hysterical note of the fact that it swung easily but made a much deeper thud than it should.

Too little, too late Rodi! he screamed inside his head.

Some logical whispers in his mind told him he was unfairly putting all of this on a person who was part of a large council now, and of course that neither of his loved ones had been at home when they were hurt. The doors merely represented failed protection to Spike; the last (now deceased) front door had actually held up until he was rescued.

Shellshock would take him to task again for his attitude.  
The former Autobot was right. Ignorance was no excuse.  
Spike growled like a wolf, deep in his chest.  
Lancer was right. Shellshock was right.  
His head got it.  
His heart was a bit slow on the uptake.

And who's fault was it that he'd been ignorant? Shellshock would say it was his own fault, and Spike accepted that, but Rodimus could also have chosen to enlighten him.

He hadn't.

When he came back as a human, Rodimus had come to the Witwickies first. He had slept in THIS house. Spike suspected Carly was secretly thrilled to be cooking dinner for her "other son", and had cried in relief that night that Rodi was alive. Spike had too, and they'd both agreed Rodi's funeral had been harder for them than Optimus'.

Losing Optimus had felt like the death of a parent to Spike - as painful in its own way as his mother's death, even more than Sparkplug's death. His father's stroke had followed a steady deterioration and Spike had known what was coming, but his mother had been hit by a drunk driver. Optimus got hit by Megatron. True they all knew any Autobot might die at any point, but it still had been a sudden thunderbolt of grief.

Rodi's loss was worse. The death of youth. The death of his son's friend. The death of his son...Spike admitted it to himself grudgingly that he still somehow regarded Rodi as his son, or at least a much younger brother. Rodi's return, even as a human... maybe especially as a human had seemed such a miracle to them. Too bad a similar miracle was unlikely to happen for Danny.

They had trusted that the tall, nervous human man was Rodimus. They had trusted him enough to let him sleep on their couch, and enough to let Lancer, a complete stranger, have the guest room.

Rodimus hadn't trusted them with a damned thing.

Not his torture. Not his relationship with Lancer. Not his war on the slavers.

Nothing.

Rodi didn't let Spike in. He didn't let him help. He didn't turn to any of them for so much as a shoulder to cry on when obviously that might have been useful.

Spike remembered the lamp Rodimus had demolished in his sleep. Lancer smacked his face to bring him around and then made up some half-assed lie about Rodi dreaming about fighting Cons. Half-assed...but they had bought it all.

Was this it then? Was this why he felt so betrayed? Not because Rodimus had killed Daniel but because Spike was hurt to find Rodimus didn't see fit to include him?

Did he feel discarded? Disrespected? Obsolete?  
Was that why Rodi had shut them out?

Spike looked around his office...at the reinforced door so carefully disguised as the warm hardwood Carly had picked out to make this place feel like Earth. Even the patterns on the wood grain were the same. Spike fell into his leather chair, threw his head down on the desk, and sobbed himself sick. Too little...too late...but you did try to protect us...didn't you Rodi?  
x  
x  
x

Char:

Viper sat still as a snake, meditating in her quarters, trying to patch her mind together to no avail. Her time on Char was a disjointed mess, but her time with the Autobots was gone. She could remember nothing of her activation, her serpent sisters, her time with Rodimus, the theft of whatever she'd taken, or her desertion. All she had was searing hate, but at least she knew not to be curious about going back to see if the posh life on Cybertron was an option.

She liked Char with its heat, its ruins, and its desolation.

She came to a decision. Her past would come back to her or not. It didn't matter. The future mattered.

Rodimus had set back her ascension into Galvatron's good graces, but he would not thwart her. No...she would let her hatred hone her skills and instincts. She almost felt sorry for her fellow Decepticons. They wouldn't know what they were dealing with until it was too late.

Activating her optics she noted that Adder lifted her head just slightly as her own head came up.

*CRUNCH*

The many-legged vermin popped. Fluid splattered.  
Viper smiled at her sister.

It was already too late.  
x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Jazz flipped listlessly through one set of cameras after another. It was stupid really, but he knew his bosses were both worried no one was watching Char. He was still technically on bereavement leave, but he needed something to do. Maybe making up for KC's death wasn't the healthiest thing to occupy him, but somehow he felt she would have wanted it.

All seemed usual.

Motormaster was walking down the halls knocking smaller Cons down, with Deadend and Wildrider playing bored backup. The Predicons were "playing" on the training grounds, Soundwave's cassettes were arguing, yelling at each other, and to all appearances having a lovely time.

Jazz admired Soundwave's ability to tune them out...for a guy with audios like that you'd think the ruckus would get to him.

Galvatron sat on his throne and talked to himself, sometimes staring at those around him until they flinched away, sometimes apparently oblivious to them all and wrapped up in his own, diseased mind.

Jazz shook his head, thinking a bit scornfully that he would never hang around such a crazy leader...especially one with such deadly tendencies. Why would you ever spend time with a guy who could kill you like nothing and had the mental problems to do it? Wait a minute....

Jazz sat up straight, shook himself, and decided some things were better left unanalyzed. At least, unlike Galvatron, HIS crazy leader had more than one person who could handle him.

It was only then Jazz thought to look for Cyclonus.  
x  
x  
x  
Cyclonus opted for thorough. He was close to the surface, but the side of the tunnel he was in was clearly headed down. He checked the depth of the pit for workers and slipped out past the hologram to the opposite side. Inspecting the area with all sorts of scanners left him with grudging respect - the illusion held up to everything but touch. Pushing it with his hand he still half-believed in it until he was up to his elbow in what looked like solid wall.

In he flew, determined to make a complete investigation of this strange place. He could see the far end of this side from where he floated. There was nothing structural to see - no doors, no off-shoots, but there were some signs off recent use.

Large tire marks were the most obvious. He floated up to the surface entrance and recognized four sets of acceleration burns on the floor. One set was from huge tires, the other was much smaller. So...at least one Autobot with a very large vehicle mode, like a truck, and the other more like a car. Two other sets overlaid these - both large, one as large as the first. Further down, there were only three sets of marks on the floor - this time from braking. They had been in a real hurry from the length of the skids...why the sudden stop? He looked all around for other clues and got one that made him stare. A long scrape...metal on metal...on the ceiling.

On the ceiling?

He floated up and found grey paint with a fleck or two of orange.

Orange could have meant several Autobots, Cyclonus reminded himself, but all of the suspects he considered morphed themselves right into Rodimus Prime.

Try as he might to figure out what set of circumstances would have resulted in tire skids on the floor and Rodimus skids on the ceiling, Cyclonus was at a loss. After searching vainly for more hints, he returned cautiously to the other side of the pit and followed the long, featureless tunnel down into the depths.

Continued in Part E


	5. Chapter 5

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part E

Continued from Part D

"Study you?" Perceptor asked Ratchet. The medical officer had at least managed to talk Perceptor into coming to fetch him and bring him back to the science lab. Ratchet was truly feeling sorry for the scientist. He didn't know a thing about the kind of person KC was, but First Aid had filled him in on her assignment and her death. To Ratchet, sending a human into Decepticon territory was a sign of real insanity on the part of the council, no matter how gifted she was. It was also a sign of pure, outrageous courage on her part, and he was honestly sorry he'd never met her. A person like that was a grievous loss no matter what they were made out of.

Certainly, he knew the signs of grief when he saw them. Perceptor was really a mess. Given how insulated Perceptor was from deep friendships the depth of this grief was something Ratchet wouldn't have said he was capable of. Not that Ratchet didn't think Perceptor didn't deserve close friends, he and Wheeljack had certainly tried, but Perceptor's intelligence made him unreachable to your average Autobot. They just couldn't communicate with him, couldn't follow his interests, and mostly couldn't HOLD his interest.

It was hard to be friends with a guy who could be chatting with you one minute, and examining the molecular structure of an amoeba the next. Perceptor could lose himself in his distractions for hours or days and then try to pick up the conversation where it left off - wholly oblivious to the time that passed.

He didn't mean it; it was just his way. Still, not many people could stand that kind of treatment for long, and as Perceptor valiantly tried to master his grief to no avail, Ratchet could see the scientist wasn't as ignorant of his affect on others as Ratchet had believed. Perceptor knew he'd lost one of the few people who would ever really understand him.

The crystal-encased medical officer smiled ruefully to himself. Here he'd been wanting a challenge. Careful what you wish for.

"Of course study me! No one knew this could happen! I didn't know I was copying my mind away when I tried to load this crystal - I just wanted to help First Aid! I was trying to load it with facts, not myself! I want to know why this happened. Rodimus says he thinks the blank stones 'read' your intentions and become what you want to a degree. I think he's right, but what I was thinking was some kind of interactive textbook. However what I was FEELING was really sorry for First Aid and wishing I could come along to help. Come on Perceptor! I've found a way to be in two places at once! Aren't you a little curious?"

"It is intriguing...as is your ability to interact with the physical world," Perceptor said.

"It's hard. It took me hours just to turn on that computer so I could reach you. Once I got it on though, accessing the comm system was easy," Ratchet explained.

"Fascinating...but whatever possessed you to try?" Perceptor asked.

"I was bored," Ratchet said.

"I assumed you just shut down when there was nothing to occupy you," Perceptor said.

"Actually," Ratchet said with some distress, "I can't shut down at all - even when the hologram isn't on, I am."

"A most intriguing predicament," Perceptor mused. "Do you suppose the Primes in the Matrix share that characteristic as well? We will have to begin with a complete diagnostic. I am in possession of the data collected by our cross-dimensional duplicates but I prefer my own analysis. We will start with a molecular and spectral analysis of your crystal and the other specimens Rodimus provided. From there we will proceed to...and where is my spectro-analyzer anyway? There it is. As I was saying, we will proceed...."

Ratchet smiled to himself, tuned out the techno-babble, and watched Perceptor get to work. The lab would get set up around him over the course of the next few days as the scientist set out to figure out what he was made of.  
x  
x  
x

Earth:

The three ranking Autobots occupied the general office the three of them now shared at Metroplex. Back in the day it had been Optimus' alone, and he'd used it only on the rare occasions he needed to leave the Ark to run things from Autobot City. Magnus' office across the hall was the real center of command here, but it was Springer and Arcee's room now. Even now this room saw little use, but it was always left at the ready in case one of them needed to pay an official visit.

They were just about to discuss the meeting with the Protectobots when a call came in on Magnus' council frequency.

He was ordered to report for duty by the only authority he recognized higher than the two Primes staring at him.

Marissa.

Magnus was commanded tersely to take abrupt leave from his duties and join his mate at her parent's home in Arizona, and he would never have dreamt of defying her. Under the circumstances, even if either Autobot leader had notions of countermanding those orders, Magnus would have mutinied without a second thought.

Marissa was in labor, and he was leaving. Now.  
x  
x  
x

Optimus and Rodimus stood watching Magnus' back bumper disappearing for the shuttle bay in a cloud of burnt rubber and exhaust.

"Oh things are going to get interesting around here," Rodimus smiled.

"You didn't do so badly," Optimus smirked.

"You know how you're always saying I'm adaptable?" Rodimus said wryly. "That guy...that guy is about to kiss his organized little life goodbye. He'll either love it or go into fatal over-load. I'm betting on overload."

"I'll take that bet," Optimus said, surprising Rodi.

"One cube?"

"Six."

"Oo...serious stuff," Rodimus snorted.

"What...too much for you?" Optimus jabbed.

"No. You're on!" Rodi grinned.

"Come on, we need to get back to Cybertron," Optimus chuckled.

Rodi's face grew grim. "I'm not coming back tonight," he whispered.

Optimus stiffened and stared at him.

"I have an assassination run to do...Miami's...Miami's a big port," Rodimus confessed.

"You didn't tell me..." Optimus muttered.

"Did...do you WANT me to? I'm sorry Optimus. I got in the habit of keeping this sort of stuff to myself," Rodimus apologized. His partner stood so stiff and cold all of a sudden. Rodi felt sick. For just a minute there, they had been friends again. Just friends sharing a happy moment for Magnus. Nothing to it. Now...all the icy barriers were back. "I didn't mean it!" he cried, hearing in a disjointed way how childish that sounded - like Edana when she broke her glasses by leaving them on the floor.

"I...I don't WANT to know," Optimus growled, "but if we are partners you must keep me informed."

"You're right. I'm sorry," Rodimus winced. He had resolved to do that already. Why hadn't he done it?

"What if something happens to you? How will we pick up where you left off?" Optimus accused.

Rodimus shrugged. "There's no overall plan, Optimus. I'm just taking on this ring because we happened to be here for the Protectobots."

"That has to change...we need a strategy," Optimus averred.

"I know...maybe what we learned will help us find one," Rodimus said. On another level he grieved...they were talking shop. The gap between them didn't widen, but it didn't close either, like Lancer's shoulder when she kept busting out her stitches. It had never had a chance to heal properly, so now that arm was weak, and hurt her every minute of the day. Would their partnership be like that? A fresh scar throbbing under the skin, just waiting for an excuse to tear?

He promised himself to do better, to keep in touch with Optimus no matter how ugly his missions were. Optimus deserved to be kept informed, even if...even if Rodimus wanted to shield him.

His head hurt...throbbed.

"Perhaps," Optimus said, his voice still cooly professional.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Rodimus told him. "The details are in the files on my workstation in my...you'll need to...you'll never find them. Lancer will meet you. She'll show you what you want to know." The words came slowly, as if they fought him. It was hard to tell his partner that. The details of this night would hurt Optimus.

"That's fine," Optimus said, optics flaring.

"I was just...trying to protect you. I've got to go," Rodimus said, activating his cloaking device. It was late. Getting dark. The fresh shipments came at dusk. Then the men would sample the goods for a while before Converting them. Rodimus transformed and started to pull away.

Optimus jumped, annoyed, as his partner abruptly vanished. He felt the anger at being left in the dark surge...and then...

"Rodi wait!" Optimus said, fearful suddenly the partnership was getting ready to vanish too. There was a very long silence and Optimus was truly afraid he'd waited too long, and was alone.

Finally though, the cloak fell. Rodimus' vehicle mode was on the threshold.

"I don't want to know what you're doing. I don't WANT to see what it's like for you, but you need to tell me...not just for planning or strategy or if the worst happens, but because I'm your friend," Optimus pleaded.

Rodimus transformed and stared a bit sullenly at his partner. His mind was already on the mission ahead. He knew it would be full of death, and blood, and pain he couldn't ease except by more death. The old rage was close to the surface. I want to help you...I can't help you...but all of them get the drill....

"How can I ever help you if you don't let me see you? When you vanish before my optics in more ways than one? How can I be your friend when I don't know where you are or what you're doing? How can I help you cope when you don't even confide in me? I don't understand you! I don't! Everything you have to do goes against what I was compelled to be! Rodimus! My mind is like a new spark! You have to teach me!"

"I...don't want...you..to learn," Rodimus said, his voice trailing off.

"You can't keep trying to protect me," Optimus stated. "I'm a Prime too!"

Rodimus winced. Optimus was right...but something was fighting.... Something deep. Fundamental. Pain seared through his head and his optics flared green and wild. On board the Maelstrom his mate tried futilely to get through to him and was screaming frantically for help...for Pagan.

"You've lost your mind!" Rodimus stated. "I'm a Prime. I'll help you find your mind... when I'm done. I have to decide," he went on flatly. "What do you think? Should I cut them open with the laser? Or the drill?"  
x  
x  
x  
Char:

Viper searched the whole base again. Adder followed her silently around the base in snake-mode, snapping occasionally at flying insects, but making no other sound.

No Cyclonus.

Frowning, the dark femme considered that he might be outside of the base, and transformed. She found the gap at the base of the front door and slid through it. Adder followed, coming close enough that occasionally their motion caused their coils to brush up against each other. Moving like this was the only time Adder let anyone touch her without striking. The two serpent-Cons sliced into the permanent dusk of Char, one dark and slim, the other light and solid.

Neither felt any need to speak as they hunted the Decepticon second through the ruins.  
x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:

Lancer roared in agony and slammed her body sideways into the wall of the mess-hall. Malice didn't know what was happening but she recognized immediately that her friend was in full-beserker rage. The demonized mutant clutched her claws around her own shoulders and clamped down, piercing the flesh. Drawing her hands down left gaping cuts that ran from her shoulder-blades, over her shoulders, and down to her chest.

Malice grabbed her friend telekinetically and restrained her, even using the pressure of her powers to stop the bleeding.

This did nothing to calm Lancer's fury - it just kept her from hurting anyone, especially herself. Her shocked friends saw her body flare within the glove of Malice's field and knew if she'd been free there would have been a full-bodied energy-burst that would have destroyed the ship.

"What's happening?" Talon shouted above her bellows. "She hasn't gone nuts like this since the year she was possessed!"

"How should I know?" Malice snapped. "One minute nothing and the next she's trying to cuisinart herself!"

There was another flare from within the TK field. This time it bulged out a little.

"Can you hold her?" Pagan asked calmly.

Malice grimaced. "I don't know...I think so, but it's been a long time. She's stronger than I remember."

The door to the mess-hall opened and they heard Claudia's whistling voice keening, "Stop her! Stop her!"

No one understood Claudia's words...she was so distressed they were nearly above the audible range, but that tone always signaled disaster. Edana flew into the room just steps ahead of her mentor, her eyes were as wild as her mother's. She ran heedlessly at Lancer - oblivious to the blood and the talons and the flaring power.

She hit Malice's force-shield as though to tackle or embrace her mother at a full tilt run.

"MOM! CUT IT OUT!" she screamed.

Lancer passed out instantly.

The adults stood stunned, except for Claudia who caught up with Edana and grabbed her, enfolding the shuddering child in her over-long arms.

Malice lowered Lancer gently to the ground, and Edana stared at the deep wounds bleeding sluggishly under the pressure-field. Her face was ashen.

"Mom? Mommy?" she whispered.

"Don't look...don't look little one," Claudia whistled, trying to turn Edana's head and cover the pale eyes with her long, feathery fingers. They were both gasping for air from the long chase through the halls.

"'Dana...are you alright?"

"My head...my head hurts," Edana said breathlessly. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she sagged bonelessly into Claudia's arms.

"I couldn't stop her!" Claudia said in guilty anguish. "I couldn't catch her!"

Talon arched an eyebrow. Claudia came from a fast species, and even if she hadn't anyone with legs that long should be able to outrun a six year old.

"This's one fast little kid," he said with admiration.

Pagan clacked at him in disgust, "We must get Lancer to med-bay and find out what transpires."

"I know," he said.

"Something's happened to Rodi of course!" Malice snapped, sick with worry.

"NO! Ya don't say!" Talon grinned. "Do you have Lancer or do you want me to carry her?"

"I've got her," Malice said, while Pagan told Jordan to meet them in the medical wing.

"Talon," Claudia wheezed, "could you help me with Edana? She's too big for me to carry all that way..."

"What? Lift this little squirt all by myself?" Talon smiled, taking her from Claudia's hollow-boned arms. "Come on Jelly-bean," he said, resting Edana on his shoulder. "Looks like you are gonna be non-stop trouble like your momma. Least ya come by it honest-like."

The worried crew took the unconscious mother one way, and the unconscious child the other, and worried about both equally.  
x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Cyclonus was getting bored. He was carefully and slowly inspecting the tunnel (including the ceiling!) for anymore clues. Other than an occasional scrape on a wall, he found nothing, but the colors of paint were intriguing, as were the heights he found them at.

Low on the wall...cobalt blue.

Higher...red, silver, and blue at different points along the route.

Proving nothing, he told himself firmly.

But who of that height had that shade of blue other than Magnus?

Who but Optimus wore just that shade of red and could leave paint at nearly Cyclonus' shoulder strut in vehicle mode?

Did anyone but Elita dress in metallic cobalt? No one Cyclonus could think of. Of course, he was hardly familiar with the teeming Paradronians but somehow he doubted any of them would fly through this tunnel so fast that they marred their finish on the walls.

He sighed. Paint scratches aside there wasn't a lot to this tunnel but miles and miles of nothing. He disciplined himself to concentrate and miss nothing. It took so much effort he missed it when the tunnel opened up to a field of carnage...until the first disembodied drone head came into his field of vision.  
x  
x  
x

"Perceptor! Hey! Talk to me. What do you think?" Ratchet said.

"Fascinating," Perceptor said.

"Ah...yes. Now, since you always say that would you care to elaborate?" Ratchet said, a bit impatiently. Dealing with Perceptor during one of his inquests was something Ratchet had plenty of experience with, but he was finding it was different when HE was the subject.

'This crystal is extremely dense molecularly...the compression is extreme and extraordinarily well organized," Perceptor mused.

"All of which was in the reports I brought you," Ratchet said neutrally.

"I wonder what environment causes such structure..on Earth for example pressure builds diamonds which are quite hard but these are far harder and clearer," the scientist muttered, as if he didn't hear Ratchet.

"Rodimus said they found them forming along side a molten stream of glowing lava," Ratchet snapped, "A fact which is ALSO in the reports if you would like to read them."

"I prefer to do my own analysis," Perceptor reminded him.

"It IS your own analysis...or your twin's anyway!" Ratchet insisted in frustration.

Perceptor's optics brightened and he sat back a moment. "Do you think my twin would simply accept data from me without verifying it?"

Ratchet glared.

Perceptor waited a bit longer, and finally smiled.

"Wait here...I want to find one of the other crystals Rodimus brought back to do a refraction analysis, an elemental smear, and finally a fracture test on. I assume you don't want me using your new home for any of that?"

"Err! NO!" Ratchet said hastily.

"I thought not," Perceptor said, still smiling.

"Oh...you and your twisted sense of humor!" Ratchet cried, faking offense.  
x  
x  
x  
Earth:

"Rodimus? What are you talking about? What laser...?" Optimus asked. His head hurt...no...Rodi's head hurt.

"I'll help you find your mind..." Rodimus told him seriously, and then, without warning, he charged Optimus like a line-backer. Nothing fancy...no assassin's tricks...but the shocking speed and surprise of his assault paralyzed his partner. Rodimus shoved the senior Prime all the way back to the wall and then actually lifted the larger robot by the armpits off the floor. "I have to protect them!" he rasped.

"You can't..." Optimus said, acting purely on instinct now. Matrix please help me! If he kills me he'll never get over it! "Oh...Rodimus you can't protect me! You can't keep me out!"

Rodimus lifted him higher, showing no signs of tiring, and slammed Optimus back into the wall.

"You can't protect us all! You know it but you don't believe it! It's Sigma, Rodimus! Don't let it do this to you! No one can ask you to protect us all! You aren't in this by yourself!" Optimus prayed desperately for his partner to understand him. He was terrified, but didn't struggle. Somehow he sensed fighting back would be a fatal error.

Optimus' communicator flashed on unexpectedly. The Autobot was in such shock he barely recognized Robert's voice. "Optimus Prime! Lancer went ballistic and collapsed! We can't raise Rodimus and we can't scan the secure sections of your bases! Where is he? We are afraid he's in danger or maybe dangerous!"

If Rodimus even heard the message he gave no sign, but Optimus was afraid to answer anyway.

"Optimus Prime?" the communicator said.

"Rodi please...put me down," Optimus tried, worried that answering the Maelstrom might make things worse somehow, but trying to send them a message anyway.

"Oh...shit," Talon's voice cussed. "Hold on Sir!"

"No!" Optimus said before he could stop himself. "I..I know h..you won't hurt me! You just want to protect me Rodi. You don't want to hurt me."

"I'll help you," Rodimus growled, shoving again. The wall behind them groaned and buckled a bit.

Optimus almost blacked out under the impact and had a dizzy and shocked thought that he wasn't too pleased with Rodi's idea of helping right now. The Matrix was sending him pulses of pain and he knew Rodimus' head was surging with agony. Somewhere behind those crazed optics was an implant putting up one hell of a fight.

Centipedes... Optimus thought drowsily as he got slammed back again. Fight it Rodi.... Half unconscious, Optimus felt the Matrix keenly. Then he knew. This was the reason he'd been encouraged to hate his partner. Vector Sigma had planted this weakness in Rodi's mind and used HIM to chip, and dig, and prod at it. If he was going to help, if he was going to even survive, he would need to undo the damage. He struggled to keep awake and went on the offensive.

"You are as cruel to yourself as they were! It's a lie! It's a Sigma spawned lie! We are just fallible mortals and we can't punish ourselves for it! We can't protect everyone all the time!" Optimus shouted.

The young Autobot didn't respond except to pound him deeper into the wall.

"I'm sorry..." Optimus whispered. "I'm sorry I took it out on you."

Rodimus lifted him and slammed him into the wall again, harder than ever. Optimus felt the protrusions on his back crushing, but knew the fight he had to wage was the one in Rodi's head. Hurting him physically would be the last thing Optimus ever did.

"This is why you think you'll never measure up! This is why you doubt yourself! No Prime was ever perfect! You know that! WHY SHOULD YOU BE ANY DIFFERENT!?"

"They're screaming...they're screaming so loud..." Rodimus said in a conversational way. He hit Optimus to the wall with a hollow boom. The senior Prime cursed the sound-proofing, and the command codes they'd used to shut Metroplex out of their conversation. Just on the other side of that wall there were oblivious Autobots doing their duties.

Optimus didn't dare call for help. Was the Maelstrom still listening?

The Matrix flared so hard in his chest he actually saw a flare of light through the seams. Optimus felt, rather than saw, something evil in Rodi's mind, fighting his perceptions of self and reality. It was as though all the extremes of Rodi's personality were colliding - his guilt and his confidence, his realism and his idealism, his madness, his clarity, his hate, and the love which spawned it. Somewhere in the middle of that mess was the implant which kept those extremes apart - as if he was two partial people rather than one where it all made sense.

No Prime was perfect...and he was not a complete failure for failing to be so.

Vector Sigma's implant argued...and to win would mean Rodimus would have to give up his guilt over everyone from Goldbug, to Daniel, to the Slaver victims he couldn't save.

In Op's mind that seemed like a very tall order.

SLAM!

That hurt some. Optimus' optics flickered off...then on again. If he failed, he would die. How could he help when Rodimus knew Op still harbored hate towards him?

"Rodimus..." Optimus whispered. "Do you know...how proud I am of you?"

He felt the rigid arms lift him again. Would this kid ever get tired? He sighed, waiting in resignation for the next circuit jarring impact, but it never came. Rodimus just held Optimus up, as if he were a child rather than a larger mech.

The green optics flared and dimmed...flared and dimmed. The Matrix pulse kept perfect time. Could Rodi feel it? After all these years of trying to amputate his link with it? Certainly, it still felt him, and was sharing the pain nicely with Optimus. Would it send Optimus' fears, and sorrows, and regrets back? Had his own soul healed enough that it would aid his friend or would lingering bitterness just make things worse?

While he was sure it was only a fraction of the real thing, Optimus was not at all ungrateful that Rodimus had tried to keep this madness from him, even if that had to change.

"They're screaming. I want to help them. I can't," Rodimus said, still calmly, as if they were talking about the weather or road conditions.

"You can't help them...you can't. It's not your fault that you can't! Please, please believe me! I'm proud of you Rodi! You did the best you could!"

"They're screaming..."

"I know. Get rid of that stupid implant Rodi! Please!"

"They're screaming!" Rodimus roared, slamming Optimus into the wall again.

"You can't help them! You can't! Let it go!"

The Matrix throbbed.

"I wish...." Rodimus whispered.

"What?" Optimus whispered back.

"I wish I could...." Rodimus said, dropping Optimus so suddenly the senior Prime's legs almost didn't hold him. Rodimus backed away, and doubled over, clutching his head.

He wanted to do something. He wanted something to attack. There was light...some kind of light showing him a target. It illuminated a dark place in his mind - something that coiled in and out of his thoughts like an alien insect. It tried to hide, but the light followed it. He grabbed. It fought.

Optimus sagged to the floor, wondering briefly how he could have ever felt anything but compassion for this suffering being...and maybe it was that change of attitude that helped at last. Rodimus clutched and pulled the implant free of his mind, pulling it up from the depths like a deeply buried cable, or a tight chain grown into flesh. It came reluctantly and tore up what it passed through on the way, but it came.

Rodimus stumbled back a few more steps and fell to his knees. The broken implant left deep ruptures with it's passage and the pain rivaled anything he'd experienced.

"Rodimus?" Optimus called weakly.

"They're screaming! They're screaming Optimus! I wish I could! I wish!" Rodimus told him, looking up and seeming to really see his partner for the first time. "I...wish...."

Optimus felt it through the Matrix like a tsunami before it broke free of Rodi's mind. As if the implant had been the dam holding the pain inside, it flooded out at last.

Rodimus screamed.

Continued in Part F


	6. Chapter 6

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part F

Continued from Part E

Magnus wished she would just scream already.

He was nervous and weak-kneed, but he held Marissa's strong, sweaty hand as she worked through her early labor. The retired Joe doctor, smiled encouragement at both of them, repeatedly assuring Magnus that early deliveries were common among twins and that their children were more than developed enough to survive.

"Cook 'em any longer and Marissa might explode," Doc said with a wizened wink.

Magnus' eyes widened.

"He's just kidding stupid," Marissa grunted.

Lady Jaye grinned, and gave her befuddled son-in-law a kiss on the forehead. She was playing nurse and camera crew for this secret delivery, while Flint playing the traditional role of pacing male in another room. Magnus probably would have liked to join him, given how pale and confused he looked, but he would have had to leave his hand behind.

Marissa wasn't screaming...she was crushing his fingers with each contraction instead.  
x  
x  
x

Char:

"He's not here Sister!" Viper said. "Where can he be? What is he up to?"

Adder said nothing, but Viper hadn't expected her to. She turned her smooth, rounded head back towards the base, and wondered how much she should make of this opportunity. If she moved too fast, it could kill her, but how often did Cyclonus desert his post at Galvatron's side?  
x  
x  
x  
Cybertron:

Cyclonus had forgotten all about the time and was giving no thought to returning for his shift. He was now late by about two hours.

The battle field he was searching through did not disturb him in and of itself. Corpses held no fear or disgust for him and normally wouldn't have held his attention, except that these were drones. Vector Sigma's drones.

His chronometer and pressure gauge made him certain he was nearly at the heart of Cybertron. The mysterious tunnel hadn't veered so much as a millimeter. Vector Sigma was no doubt close at hand.

From the position of these bodies it seemed certain they had been placed to defend the super-computer that had spawned Cyclonus...or rather, spawned his previous self.

Why?

The Autobots were undisputed masters of the planet. Why would Vector Sigma need to defend itself from them? Especially if his intuition was right about the Autobots involved. Magnus, Elita, and BOTH Primes going after Vector Sigma? Sure. And Rodimus had a human femme.

Why THAT disgusting image kept creeping in was a disturbing mystery. What was wrong with him anyway?

Try as he might to talk himself out of the theory the Autobot leaders had attacked Vector Sigma, Cyclonus kept finding skid marks and paint scrapes on the drones. Only four distinguishing colors. It seemed impossible that ANY four Autobots could take on so many drones, but if any of them could...

And hadn't he just seen three of those four waltz into Char and make the Decepticons look like complete idiots?

....

Don't dwell on it, he reminded himself.

This drone had a hole blasted clean through. That was such a Magnus move. You could always count on Magnus to put the hurt on. Scraps on the floor this time...Prime's battle deck? Maybe...Cyclonus hadn't faced that deck since his activation, so he couldn't be sure. Then there was a whole road of drones with crushed hulls and tread marks. If that was Prime too he sure wasn't pulling any punches.

Cyclonus remembered that last real battle the Decepticons had waged with Quint help...or interference. He remembered Optimus fighting like a mech possessed and shuddered.

Lots of the drones had wounds he couldn't identify with even that much certainty, but that one had its optics forked out. Cobalt paint around the edges. Cyclonus pursed his lips. Motormaster still didn't claim to see what femmes were good for...maybe Cyclonus should bring him back a souvenir.

Here was one cut neatly in half...no ideas...moving on. Here was a heap of them that looked burned from the inside out. Not even his suspects could do that.

Then he got to the doorway and noted that most of the drones left in the room were just dead for no apparent reason. Not a mark on them. Just a whole bunch of them dead on their feet.

He inspected one from top to bottom...it was frozen mid-step. Reluctantly Cyc admitted to himself it gave him surges - not the body itself, but what might have done it in. He didn't know any weapon that could leave a perfect shell like this with no visible sign of injury.

It gave him no answers, so he went on. In the hallway he saw there were drones blasted and even more crushed, but they had clearly been stacked to the sides.

He stepped into the hallway and noted to his amazement that there was another tunnel heading back to the surface with even more signs of struggle but no bodies. Unlike his pristine road down, this tunnel looked like it was chewed down from the surface by Sharkticons.

He decided to head for Vector Sigma first, then investigate....and found his way blocked.

"Slag it! A force field!"

Turning to the rough-hewn tunnel he found his way blocked again.

There was a mysterious repeated beeping from all along the new tunnel, keeping time with small blinking devices that trailed at intervals up to the surface. Cyclonus squinted, unsure of what they could be.

Faintly he heard Grapple's amplified voice echoing down the shaft all the way from the surface.

"Everyone clear? All right! Three...Two...One! Blow it!"

Cyclonus dove back to the battlefield with lighting fast reflexes. Even so, the explosion knocked him off his feet and into the air. He tried to correct himself but the shockwave flattened him to the wall like a bug on a windshield.

"I hate Autobots." he sighed as he slid down the wall and passed out.  
x  
x  
x

Maelstrom medical wing:

"Why the hell is she running a fever?" Talon asked Jordan brusquely.

"Unknown," Jordan told him, laying another ice-pack on Lancer's arms. He already had most of her packed in like a fresh fish at the grocer's. "Her wounds would be the first suspect, but I can find no signs of infection."

On the bridge, a horrendous sound made Robert wince and adjust the volume from the open channel with Optimus.

"What the hell...?" Robert asked.

Pagan pulled her cranial fins down over her ears and grimaced.

Shellshock leaned in to listen closer, and to Robert's extreme consternation, he smiled. Smiled! At that horrible sound!

"Great Cybertron," Shellshock mused. "He's screaming."  
x  
x  
x

Earth:

Optimus put his hands over his audios. It didn't help much. The senior Prime had millions of years experience with battlefields of injured and dying soldiers. He had done more than his fair share of digging victims on Earth out of fallen buildings and crushed cars as well.

Nothing he had ever heard came close to the unbelievable sound his partner was making. Rodimus didn't sound like anything Optimus had ever heard - Transformer, human, or otherwise.

All the pain Rodi had suppressed vomited forth in one long howl of anguish - and Optimus knew his torture was the least of it.

The senior Prime knew this sound would haunt him the rest of his life.

Rodimus screamed for close to ten minutes, on his knees with his head thrown back, and his optics senseless and blank. He clearly had no idea of his actions or surroundings. Optimus didn't know what to do. Calling for Autobot help was out of the question. Touching Rodi during a flashback was stupid too, but was this a flashback? Or just an extreme form of Optimus' own earlier flood of repressed complaints?

Afraid to touch, afraid not to, Optimus crouched close to his friend and tried to talk to him - waiting for the seizure to pass.  
x  
x  
x  
Maelstrom:

"Jesus!" Robert cried. "We have to get down there! No wonder Lancer went ape!"

"NO!" Shellshock cried. "Let them deal with it! Let him get it out!"

"You are as crazy as he is," Robert accused, in a rare show of ire.

"No...you don't understand! He's been holding that in since they had us. If we interfere he'll just cork it back up again!"

"Since when are you a shrink?" Robert asked sarcastically.

"Since I SAW him bottle that up...for ME!"  
x  
x  
x

Char:

Galvatron was thinking.

It wasn't easy for him...not anymore, but once in a while he could manage.

Once in a while he could pull up some of the lucid cunning that had been Megatron.

It would last as long as he didn't fall into the circular mystery of why that cunning had always ended in failure.

Too bad he would never talk to Optimus Prime about it. His old foe might have told him something about centipedes and Vector Sigma.

All Galvatron knew was that Unicron had changed his perspective on himself. Maybe it was the ignominy of being a slave, maybe it was the direct intrusion into Galvatron's mind, or even the pure shock of being over-powered by an Autobot child.

Whatever it was, once he was thrown out of Unicron's exploding form and was isolated on a plasm-ridden asteroid, he'd done something he'd never really done before.

He took stock of his mistakes.

There was no one around to blame this time. Just himself. For once, Megatron could safely set aside all his posturing of perfection and take a long, honest look.

He was absolutely certain universal conquest was his by right. That his power and intelligence and determination to do whatever it took would hand him victory as sure as gravity pulled objects down.

No question. It would all be his.

Yet...

Rotting alone in a plasma pool wasn't exactly what he expected.

He would do whatever it took. No question.

Yet as he reviewed a long list of absolutely impossible defeats he had to take note of a repetitive theme. Megatron made plans, the Autobots fought back half-heartedly...and yet they won. Why?

Because apparently Megatron would do whatever it took except get rid of Starscream.

Starscream had his uses but at some point over millions of years you would think a cunning overlord set on universal domination would have the intelligence to get rid of an overwhelming liability.

Galvatron's thoughts had begun chasing their own tail in that plasma pool. I am Destined! But... I am Destined...! But...!

Something had to go. The ego, or that sniveling voice of reason that argued "maybe not Stupid."

And thus was the REAL birth of Galvatron.

In the end, reason had walked the plank, leaving the Decepticons following a plasma cannon with an attitude...and Cyclonus.

Oh yes.

Galvatron knew what Cyclonus did for him and was both confused and gratified at his second's apparent loyalty. He knew it would be very easy for Cyclonus to take over if the taciturn 'Con ever saw fit to try.

Galvatron sometimes wondered why he didn't, and had no illusions that Cyclonus was truly that loyal. Galvatron assumed Cyclonus had reasons of his own for leaving Galvatron in power, but also assumed that would change the instant circumstances did.

Still, sometimes Galvatron fantasized about having Cyclonus rather than Starscream back in the early days. Optimus Prime would have never lived to see Earth.

Optimus Prime...his old nemesis. Galvatron trusted him more than he did most of his own soldiers - to be honest, to be predictable.

Optimus Prime was acting like he had a few sparks in his head too these days.

That's what had Galvatron laboriously trying to summon Megatron from the Pitt.

Optimus. Yelling at humans? How delicious. Maybe Galvatron should send him a gift for finally showing some steel to those sniveling fleshlings.

Ah, and those lovely riots. Over too soon to take real advantage of, but were there cracks? Was the vaunted brotherhood of Autobot society not so placid after all? Perhaps those cracks could be encourage to widen...

Where had Cyclonus gone?

Looking for answers probably, unless he had decided to betray Galvatron at last.

He looked across the throne room to the only other Con he felt might one day lead the Decepticons in his stead.

Soundwave was monitoring nearly fifty news broadcasts at once - no doubt neatly organizing and analyzing all of it at once.

Much of it was about Transformer to Transformer breeding.

Galvatron was insane, but not stupid. He needed warriors, needed them badly, and had no way to reach them. One femme was not enough. One femme would most likely bring discord.

He'd heard the Stunticons, and if they were starting to think about it then that meant Razorclaw was already planning to ambush Viper and try a forced interface. Certainly every Decepticon on the base was thinking about that much at least, given how long they'd been isolated.

If she didn't kill them, then Adder would.

Would they fight over her? Surely...they fought over things they didn't even want just for something to do....but time with a femme? Especially if it meant, as Breakdown thought, "someone loyal" to stand with them.

The smart ones would probably kill for it...and there weren't enough Decepticons left for that.

As if his thoughts summoned her, Viper slid into the command center, looking scornful and haughty, Adder coiled in behind her and made Rumble shriek when he and Frenzy tumbled too close. She struck, spitting venom across the room to where they'd been, missing the rolling cassettes by scant inches. They both stood suddenly and flattened themselves to the wall like good little soldiers waiting for inspection.

Galvatron laughed. He always found Adder...amusing.

Viper smirked.

"My Lord," she said, going down on one knee.

"Viper," Galvatron acknowledged. Soundwave turned away from his broadcasts to look in surprise at the calm, cold authority in Galvatron's voice.

Sometimes....sometimes....

"My Lord, it grieves me that I disappointed you," Viper said.

Galvatron smirked. Good girl. She probably fooled some of the others into believing she was sincere.

"No doubt it does," Galvatron said coldly.

"I...was hoping to make it up to you, in private," Viper said, with only a faint tremor to betray her nerves and excitement. She was playing a dangerous card and she knew it, but he was about to trump most of her fears.

Galvatron laughed. Starscream would have recognized the sound. "Come here," he said.

Viper smiled, slyly. She thought she had him, and she did...but having him and controlling him were two different things weren't they? Galvatron grinned, lustful in more than one sense. He had found a way to solve the problem of bickering suitors.

Viper approached his throne with complete assurance, as if it was already hers. She shifted her sinuous, strong body as if to inflame his attraction, but that was unnecessary, as was the tail that slid up his leg over his most sensitive circuits. He had no plans of refusing her. He stared at her face, one side of his mouth turned up in a condescending sneer, and for the first time he saw her confidence falter.

"You think to use me girl?" he whispered to her alone. Then he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down to her knees against him. Aloud he said, "You will make it up to me Viper, but you will do it right here."

With that, he grabbed her armored housing and threw it aside, exposing her and distracting Adder at the same time.  
x  
x  
x  
Cybertron:

Cyclonus cursed himself and his chronometer too. He was late for a shift that was already over, and had no way of predicting what kind of consequences that would bring.

If Galvatron was in a particularly good or disoriented mood this infraction might go unnoticed or at least unpunished. If not, Cyclonus might not live long enough to report his findings.

True Galvatron had been particularly pensive the last few days, but protracted calm spells usually resulted in major meltdowns when they were over.

Cyc just hoped Galvatron didn't cause too much damage while he was gone, but decided since he was in trouble anyway he might as well find out all he could. He decided to try for the mysterious Quintisson records chamber Elita and her team had "found" . The "we found some old Quint records which taught us how to reproduce" thing had seemed thin to him from the start. Given everything else he'd found it now seemed positively shady.  
x  
x  
x  
Jazz watched, aghast, as Galvatron interfaced Viper right on the throne. The femme didn't struggle. She even appeared to be enjoying herself, but Jazz was disgusted that even Galvatron was so...so crude...as to take a femme right in front of his troops, who watched in amazement and growing lust.

Where, or where was Cyclonus? He was like the dampening rods in a fusion reactor as far as Jazz was concerned....and then Jazz saw him.

The Specialist checked the Cybertronian security camera three times before he credited his optics.

Cyclonus was coming out of the Sigma tunnel...less than two miles from where Jazz was sitting.

Continued in Part G


	7. Chapter 7

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part G

Continued from Part F

Earth:

Rodimus fell forward onto his folded knees, colors greyish, optics dimmed.

Optimus was convinced his partner's sudden silence was due to energon depletion, rather than actual calm, but maybe it gave him an opening.

Tentatively, he touched Rodi on the shoulder. Rodimus flinched and looked at him sharply, but he seemed to recognize his partner.

Something perverse rose in Optimus. "Better now?" he asked with a chuckle.

Rodimus gaped at him a second and then threw Optimus a classic Rodi glare. It was enough to tell the senior Prime his partner hadn't gone permanently over the edge. Rodimus tried to push himself up to his knees, failed, and collapsed back down. Groaning, he rolled over and stretched out flat on the floor. Then he reached up and grabbed his temples with both hands.

"Implant headache?" Optimus asked compassionately.

"Yup," came the listless reply.

"Bad?"

"Worst yet..." Rodimus said. His optics dimmed. "My internal temperature is spiking," he continued, slurring his words a bit.

"Rodimus! Are you sure it isn't a self-destruct program?" Optimus cried.

"Well...funny you should mention it," Rodimus muttered.

"MORPH!" Optimus commanded, and then got on the com and roared for First Aid.  
x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:

Edana woke up very sluggishly. Her inflamed nerve channels were aggravated again and she felt feverish and achy. She blinked in the dim light of her bedroom and knew Aunt Claudia was there before she saw her. The avian alien slipped under the girl's head and shoulders, cradling her in her lap and wrapping long, downy arms around her.

Lancer was still unconscious and Edana knew she was somehow responsible, but she didn't know how she did it. She just wanted Lancer's searing rage and pain to stop, had willed it to stop, and somehow, Lancer had obeyed as if commanded. The girl knew her father was the source and even though he was on Earth, and they were orbiting Cybertron, she felt him, dimly, and she was afraid.

Claudia did her best to calm the child, but Edana lay in bed, her eyes open and unseeing, with tears slowly running off her face.  
x  
x  
x  
Earth:

Optimus watched, horrified and terrified all over again, as Rodimus struggled to invoke the change from robot to organic. It had somehow become habit to see his friends shifting from one state to another, and Optimus realized to his amazement that he had come to think of it as routine.

Naturally it was normal for Rodimus to not just change his form but his very substance.

Or not.

Rodimus ground his jaw and then eventually his teeth, while he fought to shift down, as he called it. The nearly instantaneous change took almost three minutes this time. Not long really, all things considered, but when you're a worried friend watching parts of someone melt, and bubble, and... stuff...three minutes could seem like years.

First Aid arrived just in time to miss the show. Optimus was somehow resentful of that, but he dutifully tried to explain what happened. He thought he was doing pretty well, but First Aid looked up from his main patient, reached into his gear, pulled out something, and injected it into Prime's fuel lines at the elbow-joint.

"Hey! What was that?" Optimus asked.

"A sedative. You're stammering. Try everything you just said again, because Optimus, not a word made sense."

Optimus took in a huge, cooling intake and started over. "We had an argument. I think it stirred up a Sigma implant and it got all mixed up with the stuff from his time with the Jabez. I don't know. He was irrational and kept talking about lasers, drills, and people screaming. Look at the wall! He slammed me into it! The Matrix was surging I was trying to talk him down the Maelstrom tried to talk to me and told me Lancer went crazy too and then he just started screaming. When he was done he confirmed it was a Sigma implant and that it set off a self-destruct sequence so I told him to morph, which was hard for him and then you came in."

First Aid looked up from Rodimus again - he was mostly unconscious but he seemed stable. Optimus, on the other-hand was talking like Blurr.

"That made no more sense than the first time," First Aid said grimly. Optimus geared up to repeat it yet again. "I heard you! It just doesn't make sense! Rodimus doesn't scream, Optimus."

"He did today," Optimus assured him.

"Hmmph. Maybe you didn't need a sedative after all," First Aid mused. He noticed Optimus was clenching and unclenching his hands. "Or maybe you need another one!"

"Will he be alright?"

"I don't know! Even Ratchet's at a loss with these Sigma implants! You told me the Matrix saved you, but he won't touch it," First Aid said.

"Going human saved him last time," Optimus said.

"Assuming the last one actually set a self-destruct sequence off. No one looked at him," First Aid pointed out. "He's hot...but he seems stable."

"Should we move him to med-lab?"

"Probably, but how will you explain me suddenly seeing human patients?" First Aid asked facetiously. "I've got everything I need right now and if I have to get something I will."

"Right," Optimus snarled unexpectedly. He stood, glaring about him fiercely, and finding no other outlet, threw several metal-crushing punches into the wall.

First Aid decided his faceless design was an asset after all.

"Ouch," Optimus remarked.

"When he is better," the medic said firmly, "I am ordering both of you on leave, right after Ratchet and I do a complete diagnostic on your neural systems! You are both acting erratically, especially you Optimus!"

"Am not," Optimus said sullenly.

"Are too," First Aid said.

"Am NOT!" Optimus snarled.

"OPTIMUS PRIME!" First Aid yelled.

Optimus winced. "Sorry 'Aid," he apologized, "but you can't send us on leave."

"Magnus can handle things for a few days," First Aid said firmly.

"No..he can't. HE'S on leave Marissa's having the twins right now!" Optimus said.

First Aid, gentle, compassionate medic though he was, said some words Optimus was surprised he knew.  
x  
x  
x

Marissa swore.

"Godammit, Magnus! What the fuck did you plant me with? This kid feels like Metroplex!"

He had learned very quickly not to answer such statements directly, but to respond at once with some kind of placation.

"You're doing great Marissa. It'll all be over soon," Magnus said soothingly. This line was not of his own creation. Lady Jaye had whispered it in his ear after some bumbling response of his had sent his straining mate into a rabid assurance that if she survived that he would never come within ten feet of her again. Magnus was stressed enough to take her literally.

He really thought he had prepared for this. They didn't dare take Marissa to a hospital for the delivery unless it really looked like they were hitting life or death complications. Researching everything about human child birth was only prudent. He'd carefully studied the whole process, including as many of the possible problems as he could find. Video footage, medical documents, personal testimonies, coaching techniques were all part of his exhaustive investigation.

He even abased himself so far as to ask a sniggering Rodimus what it was like.

"Oh Great Cybertron, you don't want to know!" had been the only response he could get. Real helpful sort, that boy.

Still, Magnus felt himself prepared.

Reality felt differently.

This was not some stranger, lying here with her face sweaty and flushed with strain. It was Marissa...and right now the real possibility he might lose her if something went wrong seemed a lot more plausible than the idiotic notion he might become a father!

Death was a very real concept to Magnus.

Little human children of his own, not really. Nope. Not clear on that at all.

All of his research evacuated his mind in an instant, leaving him with nothing to say and nothing to do but hold Marissa's hand and panic.

Lady Jaye just thought he was the cutest thing, and helped him whenever he faltered.

Marissa groaned, and Magnus groaned with her as he marveled that his crushed fingers could actually be made to match his paint job.

Look there! he thought hazily, They're blue!

x  
x  
x

Char:

Viper pulled back a little from Galvatron's embrace.

He smirked, optics flaring, looking neither spent nor entirely satisfied in spite of the tremendous power surge she had taken from him.

She was neither shamed nor entirely displeased with his unexpected actions, but she realized very clearly, as he no doubt intended, that she had underestimated him. By taking her here, with witnesses, he had assured she would not be able to seduce anyone else, as if he was marking his territory and crushing any ambitions to join with her. Certainly, he had made it clear she would not simply be dictating this gambit on her own terms.

No doubt he would keep her close so that when they took the time to make a fertile bonding there would be no question of paternity as well. She saw her little plans to pull the males around like so many puppets on strings go to waste. The only real regrets she had about that were Soundwave and Cyclonus - merging with them would have given her inroads to all the real power there was in this pitiful little band.

Still, she had some of what she wanted...a place on the dias, close to him, where she could observe and learn and maybe...influence.

She supposed he expected her to protest being used this way in front of everyone, but she didn't mind. She had enjoyed it - taking great pleasure in both the physical and metaphorical power she was taking from him. The risk of it all was intoxicating too - she knew he might kill her at any second and she found the fear only added fuel to her lust. It was a Decepticon's job to be used by their leaders - and he had a use for her none of the others could claim. The many optics on her triumph excited her.

Besides, leaders changed, didn't they?

She met Galvatron's optics again. He seemed to be waiting for her reaction - as if she would cry or argue or flee the scene. It seemed she was not the only one guilty of underestimation today.

Viper answered his smirk with one of her own, made it plain she was neither cowed nor humiliated, and reached for his interface circuits again. Her snake-like form wrapped around him, and he cried out involuntarily.

This time, it was Galvatron's turn to be taken by surprise. She took her time.

x  
x  
x

Rodimus didn't protest when First Aid picked him up and flopped him down on the office desk. His head pounded, but not with the same increasing pressure that it had as a robot. His thoughts were jumbled and erratic - as if the implant was some kind of pressurized cork that had held his mind down, but once released had sent everything erupting. Now he had to sift through what was left to see how to put it all back together. Reaching for his mate instinctively didn't help. She was still unconscious.

"How do you feel Rodi?" First Aid prompted, wishing for the millionth time that his medical knowledge of humans was even as good as his knowledge of Transformers.

"Did...Did I smash Optimus into the wall? Please tell me I didn't," Rodimus asked weakly.

"OK...you didn't," Optimus said cheerfully.

First Aid looked sharply at the elder Prime. One minute he was punching walls, and the next he was practically humming.

Rodimus opened his eyes slightly, took stock of his partner's form and winced. "That lie would've worked better without the dents," he remarked.

"I thought I'd give you a taste of your own medicine," Optimus sassed.

"I can't reach Lancer," Rodimus said, in no shape to deal with Op's eccentric behavior.

"Is everything under control down there?" Robert's voice sizzled in over Op's com line.

"Oo...slag! I forgot about them," Optimus cussed.

"That remains to be seen," First Aid said with trepidation.

Rodimus laughed hysterically. Optimus joined him.

"Er..." Robert said. "We're en route. We should be within teleport range shortly."

"Ohh-Kay!" Optimus chirped.

"Weirdo," Rodimus remarked.

"I gave him a sedative," First Aid explained. "At least I hope that's his problem."

"Ah..." Rodimus said. "Can I have one?"

"You? No!"

"Why?"

"Because you're in human form!" First Aid pointed out.

"Ah...that's hardly fair," Rodimus pointed out logically. He was proud of this reasoning, because it was the most focused thought he had at the moment. Trying to put together the last few minutes only called up emotions he wanted nothing to do with. Slowly though, things began falling into place and his drowsy confusion vanished.

"Lancer!" he breathed, suddenly really realizing she wasn't "with" him. Concentrating on her, he found her slowly coming around.

"What happened?" he cried.

Optimus cheerfully filled him in.

Just as Rodi was getting ready to apologize, Jazz's frantic voice cut in over Op's comm lines.

"Enough with the calls already!" Optimus snapped.

"Wha...?" Rodimus said brightly.

"We've got a situation!" Jazz informed them frantically. "Cyclonus is crashing our party!"

"Really?" Rodimus cheered with a huge smile. "Good for him!"

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Optimus snarled. "He'll be dead in an hour. Prime out."

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Cyclonus knew where he was going for a change. Getting in would be another matter.

True, under normal circumstances, finding one's way through the tunnels without knowing your way would be a problem, but the citizens of Cybertron were oh so very helpful. Elita's "discovery" had been neatly marks with signs, all of which apologized for their temporary, unembellished nature, assuring the reader that new and better signs were coming soon to lead you to the celebrated place.

Paradronians. Even the temporary signs had pretentious lettering.

They do come in handy once in a while, he thought, stashing the body on the side of Omega's charming chasm. By the time the reconstruction workers got this high and the body was found, Cyclonus would be safe on Char, or dead at Galvatron's hands. By Cyc's estimate, it would be a few weeks before they could reach his victim and if he was really lucky they'd assume the dead Paradronian was killed in the collapse.

Cyclonus fussed for a minute with his stolen Autobot insignia. If he ran into a warrior, they'd just shoot him, but he doubted many of the teeming Paradronians would look past the brand. If he got caught, oh well. His reception at home was likely to involve cannon fire anyway.

The most annoying part was having to walk like a good little Autobot rather than fly. He slipped into the small crowd of sight-seers who were heading down. He trailed behind them and listened to their chatter, mostly on the excitement of this find and the possibility of new sparks. No one really took note of him, for all that he stood a full-head over the tallest of them.

Down they went. It didn't take long, as new (also unfinished, with signs begging forgiveness) tunnels had already been cut to eliminate annoying twists and turns.

The site itself was cordoned off with force fields. The Paradronians were duly respectful and peered in. There wasn't much to see, just an old Quint lab. He recognized their work.

"Vector Sigma's last gift," one of his "companions" muttered reverently.

"Pardon the intrusion," Cyclonus asked solemnly, trying to make his voice sound friendly.

The Paradronian turned to look at the strange voice, but was optic level with Cyc's "borrowed" insignia. The little Autobot slowly turned his optics upward, nervous in spite of the comforting brand.

"Yes?"

"What do you mean...'Vector Sigma's last gift'?" Cyclonus asked.

The Paradronian stared - why did that smile seem so...predatory?

"You haven't heard?" another one of their companions asked in shock.

Cyclonus shook his head.

"Vector Sigma was dying...that's why it led us here. It's passing was announced yesterday! Optimus Prime has declared an official month of mourning. I can't believe you didn't hear!"

"I...was traveling," Cyclonus said. True enough. He was traveling from Char to Cybertron. "That is grievous news indeed." A least that statement was sincere.

x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:

Lancer awoke slowly, and immediately tried to clutch her head. Not happening...too many stitches.

Nervous friends watched to see what she was going to do.

"Medical wing....why am I in the medical wing?" she asked for starters.

"Cause you went nuts and tried to blow us all up," Malice simpered.

Lancer picked her head up to stare at her friend. Bad mistake. "OW! God my head!" Rodimus sent her a sincere and abashed apology, and an update on everything in a jumbled rush.

You screamed? You did! How in the hell?

Implant. I got it...I think the Matrix may have helped, but I can't remember . He treated her to his gnarled recollections of everything from the quarrel with Optimus, to the pseudo-flashback, to the near-miss with the self-destruct program.

She sent him sympathy and energy. I'm sorry I couldn't help you! I nearly lost you! That really freaked her out. It was a given fact in her mind that she would die first.

You were out cold, Lady Assassin. Nothing you could do. Optimus helped me...he really did.

It's wonderful that he did, but I should have been there for you, not out cold...hey! Why was I out cold?

No idea... Rodimus sent. He couldn't keep up with all the things he wanted to worry about....something about Op killing Cyclonus tried to intrude.

"Malice?" Lancer asked. "Why was I out?"

"Well," Malice said, shrugging at Jordan, "You went nuts, your daughter outran Claudia to get to you, and then you went out. Near as we can tell, she told you to."

Lancer stared up at her friend again. "Edana..."

"Yes..."

"My six year old," Lancer gasped.

"Last I checked she was yours," Malice said.

"My six year old is capable of knocking me out?" Lancer asked.

"That's going to make grounding her interesting, don't you think?" Malice said.

"Wait..." Lancer said. "She was there? She saw me spaz out?"

"Yeah, but...." Malice started, but Lancer was already sprinting out the door.

"Never a dull moment," Malice told Jordan. He nodded serenely and she hated him for it.

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Cyclonus waited impatiently while all the brain-dead Paradronians milled around, peering vaguely through the force-field and swallowing every word of flowery description on the signs recounting Elita's discovery of Quint reproduction records. Clearly they were in a state of near-religious thrall of the senior femme's "being guided" here by Vector Sigma. They muttered to each other about Prime being Chosen of the Matrix and Elita being Chosen by Vector Sigma.

It gave Cyclonus the surges, and it was all he could do to not pull a blaster and start shooting. Finally, they drifted away in ones and twos, and he hoped he had time before the next batch of pilgrims made their way back to what was surely becoming a shrine.

A nasty little Quint lab - this was their shrine.

Cyclonus wasn't going to waste a second. He tore the panels off the wall next to the door, pulled his blaster, set it on continuos fire and started melting his way through the wall.

x  
x  
x

Jazz was getting ready to kill one of his leaders. He couldn't decide which one though. Magnus was unreachable and Op and Rodi had taken forever to respond. When they finally DID respond, Rodimus sounded over-energized and Optimus sounded even worse. He couldn't get a clear response out of either of them, but Optimus wouldn't relinquish the com line. He was just ranting about Cyclonus but not really doing anything about it.

First Aid's, almost drowned out by Optimus' diatribe, finally yelled loud enough for Jazz to catch a few words about another Sigma implant in Rodimus and some kind of fight between the Primes.

This did nothing to tell Jazz what he should do about Cyclonus, but he knew better than to just pull the alarms.

It was Rodimus who finally got it together enough to talk to him with some kind of sense.

"Wha's happenin Jazz?" he slurred.

"Rod-man I don't know if I should tell you sounding like that!" Jazz flipped from being annoyed to worried.

"Headache...talk," Rodimus said.

In the background Optimus was threatening to send every combiner group they had to get Cyclonus.

"Cyclonus is on Cybertron! I told you once already!" Jazz reminded Rodi.

"Hmm...forgot. S'ok. What's he doing?" Rodimus asked.

"He's been down in the Sigma Tunnel...I don't know how long. Now he's followed a bunch of Paradronians down to Elita's big surprise!"

Jazz really fretted when Rodimus let out a long, ill sounding chuckle, afraid Rodi hadn't been able to follow what Jazz felt was a developing crisis.

Eventually Rodimus said, "Irony! All these years we've watched them night and day, but he picks now t' make a move. What'd I do to d'serve? ... Don't answer..."

"...and Warpath, and Tracks, and Sludge, and Spike, and..." Optimus was saying.

"What happened to Optimus?" Jazz asked anxiously.

"Frs' Aid gave 'im a sedative," Rodimus told him. "He wasn' makin' any sense."

"This is better?" Jazz cried.

"Um...no. W'rse. Kay...Cyc is prob'ly lookin' for why we hit Ch'r and mayb' the riots...Better give him sum answers..las' thing we need is Cyc wonderin' too much."

Slurred voice notwithstanding, Jazz couldn't argue with that.

"What do I do?"

"KILL HIM!" roared Optimus.

"Ow! Op my head!" Rodimus groaned. "We can't kill Cyc...he's th' only one holdin' th' Cons together."

"Ah! You're just like Vector Sigma! Holding me back!" Optimus accused loudly.

"S' help me Op, if you don't quit yellin'...and who are you callin' Vector Sigma?" Rodimus snapped.

"WHAT DO I DO ABOUT CYCLONUS!?" Jazz bellowed.

Optimus had the nerve to look surprised. Rodimus turned all shades of green and smashed his eyes shut, wishing somehow that he could turn down human ears. The others waited somewhat respectfully as he vomited nothing for a few minutes.

"I am gonna get y' both back f'r this," Rodimus threatened.

"What do I do about Cyclonus?!" Jazz whispered.

"Send everyone!" Optimus purred. "Missiles! Big Missiles!"

"No!" Rodimus said. "Send Blitzwing! Optimus...get him on the com!"

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Optimus asked sarcastically.

Rodimus, in human form, blinked up at his partner and just waited.

"Oh...right..." Optimus finally caught on. "Wow...what did you give me First Aid?"

"Something I'm never giving you again, that's for sure!" First Aid sighed.

"Right..." Optimus said, contacting Blitzwing.

"Blitz here," came the the ex-Con's voice over the line. "What can I do for you Prime?"

"Rodimus wants you to go kill Cyclonus!" Optimus frothed.

"NO I DON'T!" Rodimus countermanded. "Ow...Look...Blitz. Here's what you need to do..." Rodimus began.

Continued in Part H


	8. Chapter 8

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part H

Continued from Part G

Char:

By the time Galvatron and Viper were done making spectacles of themselves word of what was transpiring had spread through the base and the Command Center grew quite crowded. Even the Combaticons, who preferred to bivouac about ten miles outside of headquarters came in to watch.

Of course, the Command Center seemed more crowded than it actually was. Rumble and Frenzy had the whole right side of the room pretty much to themselves. Everyone else chose to huddle together on the left. The cassettes would have been delighted to join the crush. True, they had the best seat in the house, and true they were most interested in what Viper was doing, but.... Her discarded body armor, another source of curiosity, was laying right by their feet, and they didn't dare examine it.

Galvatron had thrown it, probably deliberately, to distract Viper's body-guard...and it had worked. Now Adder was coiled up over the piece of her sister like a dragon over treasure and was guarding that... from the cassettes. She was just feet from them, and they stood there, aroused and terrified, and utterly afraid to move while the rest of their so called brothers-in-arms mocked them and watched their leader satiating himself numerous times.

Perhaps it was the audience. Perhaps it was Galvatron's un-matched energy, or perhaps it was simply their perspective at the moment, but it seemed to Rumble and Frenzy that their leader had remarkable stamina, and every time he turned Viper over, or twisted her unnervingly flexible body for another round they cursed him for it.

They wondered where Cyclonus was.

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

"Truly remarkable," Perceptor was muttering. "A most incredible specimen!"

"I AM NOT A SPECIMEN!" Ratchet reminded him. "I am your friend, and I am NOT thrilled to be trapped in this hunk of rock!"

Perceptor's optics brightened, a bit embarrassed, but a bit amused too. "You won't be trapped for much longer, Ratchet. I don't know if we can build you a new body, or if you even want one, but for the time being I can easily wire Med-Lab to respond to your commands. That's what's so remarkable. This crystal not only contains enough energy to sustain you indefinitely, it allows your consciousness...your will, as it were, to connect with things around you. With very few modifications I can engineer limbs for manipulation of tools and equipment. You won't be just able to run Med-Lab...you'll BE Med-Lab!"

Ratchet gaped at him and then a slow, huge smile spread across his holographic face. "Perceptor I could hug you!"

"Not at the moment you can not, but give me a few hours and I will afford you the capacity," Perceptor told him, and for the first time, Perceptor's optics really reflected his smile.

x  
x  
x

Cyclonus smiled. He was finally through. Eager and worried about interruption he stepped through his super-heated new "door" and entered the "sacred" Quint lab. Quintissons he was only too familiar with, although he gave only a passing thought to their fate recently. As long as they didn't show up to bother Char again he was happy. He sometimes wondered why they disappeared - not because he gave a broken circuit for their welfare, but because he didn't want to tangle with whatever had caused them to vanish.

If this was a ruse, it was well done. A Quint lab surely, down to the last detail. The control switches for tentacles, not digits. The curved walkways and apparatuses for the Quints floating locomotion. He went to the computer's memory banks and scanned the inventory. Shipping records. Deadlines. Blueprints for early Cybertronians. Orders and invoices. Lots of cost cutting recommendations...including...

Inter-Transformer reproduction.

There it was. Stated in typical Quint avarice. They looked at breeding as a way to cut down on production time and over-head. Slaves begetting slaves.

It made him furious to think of his warrior ancestors, built with the same drive to succeed that he had, bent under the yoke of servitude. If there was one thing he understood about the Autobots it was their desire to chose their own destiny.

That gave him pause.

He thought about the obvious fight around Vector Sigma and the four Autobots he so incredulously suspected.

What if...what if they had found this information first?  
What if Vector Sigma had objected?

Certainly he could see how it might not want to give up it's sole right to give life. No one would want to relinquish such power...but the Autobots would want to be free of its monopoly, wouldn't they?

He suddenly could really picture Optimus Prime turning on Vector Sigma. Cyclonus was pretty sure he understood.

A low, soft laugh broke through his reverie.

Cyclonus reeled around and gasped in astonishment, raising his weapon and firing in panic. He hit the wall just inches from the figure leaning on the doorway with its gun pointed.

Blitzwing chuckled. "Your aim's gotten worse Cyclonus. All that bad energon maybe?"

"What do you want Traitor?" Cyclonus snarled. They were at an impasse - both guns locked on target and close enough to kill.

"To see what you were up to," Blitz said smugly. "How do you like our new discovery? Too bad you've only two femmes to help you with it. Do you think Adder will make a good mommy?"

"Your new master has infested you with his sorry sense of humor, Blitzwing. It ill suits a Decepticon."

"Yeah...that's why I've got this new brand and all," Blitzwing mused.

Cyclonus glared furiously, wanting to rearrange that smug look on Blitz's face with his afterburners. He was not unaware that they weren't really at an impasse at all. Blitz didn't need to do anything but call for backup and wait. For a long moment they just stood there sizing each other up, and Cyclonus waited for echoes of running feet to come at them down the tunnel.

It was quiet.

"Your new friends are slow to arrive, Traitor," Cyclonus sneered.

"That's because I haven't sounded the alarm yet," Blitzwing said, still smug.

"Why not? Turning traitor on the Autobots now?" Cyclonus sneered, disgusted.

"I will have you remember that Galvatron betrayed ME, when I was giving him truthful information, and then handed me to the Quints. I cost them victory over all of us that day. They nearly made us slaves again. Going to Rodimus to stop them was my only choice, not an act of betrayal. You know it even if Galvatron doesn't. The Quints were not forgiving Cyclonus. They were not merciful. You may be content to follow the shards of Megatron but I like my chances here. The Primes don't make a habit of shooting the messenger. Plus the energon is better. What should I have done when they rescued me? Gone back to Galvatron so he could give me to the Quints all over again?"

"If you're so committed why haven't you sent for them then?"

"Maybe because I know if I'd come to you with that report you would have listened," Blitzwing said. "You would have made HIM listen...and you tried to get him to spare me."

"Your gratitude is wasted on me, Traitor," Cyclonus snarled.

Blitzwing smirked again, "Well, it could also be you are the only hope the Decepticons have, and I hate to think my heritage has gone extinct, even if you all deserve it."

"You will never defeat us!" Cyclonus shouted defiantly.

Blitzwing laughed, really laughed. "Oh Cyclonus...you're a strategist and a realist. We've already defeated you! What would you do if the Primes decide to launch Metroplex against you?"

"Why haven't they then?" Cyclonus accused.

"Maybe because 'Til All Are One' means something to them," Blitzwing whispered. "Go home! Maybe you can make them into something new, Cyclonus!"

"You aren't going to turn me in?" Cyclonus asked.

"No. We're even. Go home," Blitzwing ordered.

"What did Rodimus Prime take from Viper?" Cyclonus asked in a rush. The way he saw it, he had nothing to lose.

Blitzwing laughed again, the same mocking laugh he used to belt out on Char. "Oh that? Just the model of the RPM Center in Seattle."

Cyclonus blinked at him as if Blitzwing had just started speaking in tongues.

"The Rodimus Prime Music Center...it's a concert hall in Seattle named after him. It's a pun...RPM's...get it? Never mind! The architect gave him the model after they built it...it's like his favorite thing. Honestly...I think he'd trade the Matrix for it. She only stole it to piss him off. It worked too...he's still mad about it."

Cyclonus stared at Blitzwing a long, long time.

"I hate Autobots," he said.

x  
x  
x

Earth:  
Listening in over Blitz's com line, Rodimus and Optimus shared a good laugh.

First Aid wondered who was next in line for the Matrix.

x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:

Edana had traded Claudia's lap for her mother's. Lancer stroked her daughter's hair and tried futilely to get the girl to quit apologizing for not stopping Lancer's fit before Lancer hurt herself, and at the same time also apologizing for knocking her mother out.

"It's not your fault, Dana. It isn't. I'm sorry I upset you," Lancer said uselessly. "God, baby...you are so much your daddy's child. Don't be like him...not this way."

"Don't be mad at him, Mommy," Edana whispered.

Lancer sighed, and tried to control her emotions. It was true. She was a bit angry at her mate at this moment, and it was over something she'd sworn never to resent. He was Prime first. He was dealing with a crisis (not to mention the whole Implant event) and he was Prime first. Always. She and the girls had to fit into the cracks of his life.

Still, Lancer was angry that he couldn't spare even a little of himself right now to help her deal with her emotions and their empathic daughter who was sick and soul-sick because of them. It was all on her right now, to comfort their child, and to help her manage abilities Lancer didn't understand.

Edana's power was opening up, and Lancer felt excruciatingly under-qualified to raise her. Especially alone.

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Spike went back to the psychiatric hospital for the second time that day, raising eyebrows amongst the staff. He found her as he left her, except that they had turned her and laid her out.

Taking Carly's hand, he sat down next to her and pulled his chair as close as it would go.

Then he started talking.

He told her everything. What had really happened to their son. What had really happened to Rodimus too. What he was doing, what he was feeling, what he wished, what he missed. All of it.

Somewhere over the course of the hours, he forgot she couldn't really hear him. He fell asleep with his head on her mattress, and the staff decided to let him stay.

x  
x  
x

Ratchet experimented with his new "arms". They looked more like claws really, but he wouldn't accept Perceptor's apology for their crudeness.

In the few hours it took to make them, Perceptor had engineered limbs with remarkable dexterity...and Ratchet knew they would get better in a hurry. These only had a limited work area but soon there would be more and better limbs all over Med Lab and Science Lab.

Even better, now he could help make them.

He laughed, got started and discovered something else when Perceptor called his attention away from cutting sheet metal into more "fingers" for his next set of arms.

The limbs he was working with would keep right on with their task, just as he wanted, without his complete attention. ... Or was it just easy to split his attention. Yes....one part of his mind was busy cutting and welding, while his hologram self spoke freely with Perceptor.

He interrupted Perceptor to point this out.

Perceptor looked intrigued. "Remarkable...true multi-tasking!" he said. "I may be jealous."

"There are draw-backs," Ratchet said. "I can't feel anything."

"That may become a problem for you," Perceptor mused. "Rodimus, Magnus, and Jazz all suffer sensory deprivation due to their organic morphing abilities. You feel nothing at all?"

"No," Ratchet confessed.

"Well, attaching sensory circuits to some or all of your limbs will be no inconvenience, so we can forestall that difficulty before it begins. What really intrigues me is your ability to double your mental processes, so to speak. We require more data, but my theory is the facets of the crystal act as mirrors on mirrors. Each facet is a refection, but a complete reflection that can act on its own. You are a new life-form Ratchet!"

"What an unnerving supposition!" Ratchet exclaimed. Behind him, the robotic limbs worked faster and faster on their task.

x  
x  
x

Earth:

The remaining Protectobots decided, after some debate, to merge. Defensor deserved to know what was happening with First Aid...and what was happening to him. They didn't want him to learn about it for the first time in the middle of some crisis or another.

They combined, and their consciousnesses underwent the merge. The awareness of their missing piece was more acute than ever.

Defensor stood alone in the Protectobots' head-quarters....looking at his one remaining hand.

It was always like this. He was always alone - part of, but forever separate from the brothers that made him up. It was never too easy to think, but he was lucky. His brothers loved each other and got along for the most part. Their trust in each other made them more open to linking minds, which made thinking easier for him than most combiners.

He was glad that they had learned First Aid hadn't abandoned them. He was very glad they had all forgiven the Medic - the anger and confusion were all that he could bear. Defensor was also glad the leaders had come and explained what they could. Hotspot's fears made it clear to him that there was no choice.

It helped...really it did, but part of his mind was still missing.

He felt himself slip. His thought processes stumbled a minute and dissolved into gibberish.

x  
x  
x

"Rodimus, I think you should try returning to robot mode now," First Aid said, "but I want you to shift back the instant you feel the headache increase."

"OK..." Rodimus said. He closed his eyes, ignored his upset stomach and morphed back to Autobot form. His pain didn't increase, so he submitted to First Aid's exam.

"The over-heating is falling off," First Aid noted as he hooked up an energon feed. "I think you are just having the regular Implant headache now."

"Ain't nothing regular about those headaches," Optimus Prime said.

"Ain't?" Rodimus asked.

"Yup," Optimus said.

"What did you give him?" Rodimus wanted to know.

"Just a standard neural inhibitor," First Aid said in clear exasperation. "It shouldn't have done anything but calm him down."

"Optimus Prime just said 'ain't' First Aid. I think you calmed him down right through the floor," Rodimus noted.

"I think it just relaxed his...erm...inhibitions...for lack of a better word," First Aid theorized.

"Well, do me a favor. Take Mr. Uninhibited home and stay with him until that stuff wears off or Elita gets back," Rodimus said.

"When will she be back?"

"When she clears up some of the...misunderstandings with our trading alliances," Rodimus sighed.

"Ah...tall order. So...I'll stay with him until it's over then...she won't be back anytime soon," First Aid said.

Rodimus nodded, and was sorry. Then he got up.

"Waitaminute Rodi," Optimus drawled. "Where're you going?

"I have that mission to run, remember?" Rodimus said. The raping was probably done by now...the killing would be just getting started.

Optimus frowned, all trace of intoxication gone in a flash. "You can't be serious. You almost died."

"Almost..." Rodimus smiled, "but not today." He headed for the door.

Optimus blocked him.

"You can't always protect everyone...don't you remember?"

"I remember, but that won't stop me from saving as many as I can," Rodimus whispered. He cloaked, and was gone. Optimus' voice calling him back got no response.

x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:

Lancer shielded ferociously as Rodimus headed out. Edana had finally fallen asleep and Lancer wasn't about to let her mate's pain and rage filter back through to their child.

She pressed Robert's code on her wall panel.

"What's up?" he asked.

"We need to reconfigure my quarters again," Lancer snarled. "Edana's room needs the same tele-empathic shields as the ship."

"That'll take some doing. Tell you what...we'll use the empty suites down the hall and we'll move you girls there once we rig it up," Robert said.

"How long will it take?" Lancer growled.

"Two...three days tops," Robert said. "I know we've got spare disrupter nets for the outer hull somewhere.... Talon? Where did we stash those left over disrupter nets?"

"The leftover whozits?" Talon asked.

"The metal nets we used on Claudia's room," Robert clarified.

"Oh..I dunno," Talon answered cheerfully.

"We'll find them Lancer," Robert assured her.

"Bring extra," Lancer hissed. "And hurry.... Thanks guys."

"New digs for the jelly-bean!" Talon said cheerfully, belying how worried he was. "Our pleasure Ma'am."

Lancer couldn't help herself. She smiled.

Continued in Part I


	9. Chapter 9

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part I

Continued from Part H

Char:

Cyclonus barely remembered the long flight home. The longest leg of his trip, the last part between the second jump-gate and Char's isolated orbit, was a complete blank.

He remembered Blitzwing tailing him all the way to the surface. He remembered being forced to give back the insignia he was wearing.

Blitzwing asked who he got it from. Cyclonus told him where to find the body.

"You couldn't have just knocked him out?" Blitzwing snarled, showing real anger for the first time. "You idiots are so slagging WASTEFUL."

"Paradronians are wasteful. They waste space," Cyclonus sneered.

Blitzwing gestured around him. "Just because someone doesn't meet YOUR standards of warrior, doesn't mean they're useless, Cyclonus!" Blitzwing said, waving around him at Cybertron's renewal. "Wake up! You idiots think I've turned on you ...that I've changed. I didn't. Everything I did was in my best interest, and now I see that it is STILL in my best interest to make compromises. Not every problem can be solved with a blaster!"

Cyclonus didn't answer. He took off before the furious ex-Decepticon decided to change his mind about letting him go.

Running over these events, and the conversation down in the "shrine" , Cyclonus barely noticed his trip home. He supposed he was lucky he didn't run into an Autobot patrol.

Or maybe his fate was simply to die at the hands of his leader.

Striding into the base as if nothing whatsoever was out of the ordinary, Cyclonus knew he was in real trouble just by the smirks he was getting from Cons he passed.

Swindle looked him up and down as if already calculating how much Cyclonus' parts would fetch him on the black-market. Brawl and Vortex smiled and whispered to each other as he passed.

Then Brawl snickered, and Cyclonus snapped.

Whirling like the storm he was named for, Cyclonus grabbed Brawl's neck and slammed him bodily into the wall. He didn't say a word, he just squeezed slowly. Vortex took a step their direction and found Cyclonus' blaster under his chin.

"What was that Brawl?" Cyclonus asked.

Brawl, of course, was in no place to answer, but Cyclonus didn't let up until the Combaticon went limp in his grasp. He shoved Brawl at Vortex, and stomped off towards the Command Center.

This might be his last day of life, but if so Galvatron would have the honor of ending it. Cyclonus was not about to take slag from anyone else.

Still, as the doors opened, he found what he saw even more unnerving than the anticipated plasma bolt.

Nothing.

The dias was empty.

Most of the Command Center was empty too....except for Soundwave dutifully monitoring transmissions as always.

The communications specialist turned immediately to face the Decepticon Second, and with a rare show of emotional upheaval raised his vocalizer. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Jazz watched Soundwave filling Cyclonus in on Viper's new game, and grinned. Unflappable, inscrutable Soundwave was clearly in a state, and Mr. Always-in-Control had his mouth dangling.

"Serves you right for deserting your post, Cyclonus," Jazz muttered to himself. Any sympathy he might have felt for Cyc was overshadowed by the fact Jazz had to tell Optimus about the murdered Paradronian, Overlay. A simple maintenance worker, Overlay had specialized in road repair, and had been helping restore the tunnels Omega Supreme collapsed. Over-powering him was surely child's play for a warrior like Cyclonus, and his death was clearly, well, over-kill.

Optimus would not be happy.

x  
x  
x

Earth:

Defensor fell to his knees and clutched erratically at his head. Even that motion was difficult and unfocused. His hand fell back to earth, because he couldn't maintain enough cohesion to control it. One thing was clear - he was useless. Despair tried to claim him and he tried, in his simple way, to say goodbye to his brothers. He was miserable and afraid and would rather never function again than go on like this.

Quite simply, he wanted to give up...and that made the part of him that was Blades simply furious. Defensor attempted to disengage, but Blades rebelled - forcing a tighter bond with Hotspot's mind and arguing with the resignation there. The two of them linked deeper in this moment than either ever had before, more than they even felt possible up to now. Blades was finally accepting First Aid's loss, but that made him even more determined to hold onto Defensor.

It made Defensor a little more inspired to hold on to himself, or to at least try.

Hotspot's persona gave up its resignation and asked the other two to try. Groove needed no real encouragement and threw his mind completely open.

Streetwise held out for a second...there was always some part of themselves they held back to avoid truly becoming one entity. It was a natural thing, to want to keep a part of yourself for yourself. Blades was abandoning it out of anger, Groove out of simple trust, and Hotspot out of a leader's compulsion to do what was best for his team. Streetwise was neither the most passionate nor the most trusting of his brothers, and his independence was important to him.

The others waited, respectful of his right to keep his own soul, even if it meant Defensor was down until First Aid came home. None of them would blame or begrudge him...and their respect and compassion tipped him over. He threw the last of himself into the link.

x  
x  
x

Marissa roared.

"It's a boy!" Doc yelled, suctioning out the airways and giving the foamed covered lump a sound thump or two.

"We knew that already!" Magnus snapped. "Is he...Is he fully functional?"

"Oh my God," Marissa whispered, gasping. "Functional...you are asking if our baby is functional. We'll never pull this off..."

Doc chuckled and made a big show of counting, "Ten, ten, two, two, one, one.... All anatomy seems to be present and accounted for Ultra Magnus, and not a tire in sight!"

"That's a relief. Which one is it?" Magnus asked.

"Magnus we agreed the first one born would be Kyle!" Marissa grunted. As far as she was concerned, the relief was only half-way finished.

"Yes, but how do we know it's the right one...?" Magnus asked. He looked around. "Why does everyone keep laughing at me?"

x  
x  
x

Rodimus scanned the concrete building for wiring and security systems. Finding a dead zone in the electrical grid, he flicked an acid pellet onto the concrete and waited. The target building was a concrete structure with no windows and two class-two telekenetic Convert Guards behind the rolling metal door on street level. More than strong enough to crush him like a soda can, and worthy of a high enough Conversion chip to act quite effectively on their own, even if their masters were dead. Therefore Rodimus was making his own back door to get in. His Jabez scanner read fifty nine human life-signs. The two by the door, forty-three huddled in the center of the main floor, ten holding weapons in a loose circle around those, two upstairs in the offices, and one upstairs in what was surely the surveillance center. Rodimus planned to go after that guy first.

He dangled, one handed, from a drain pipe off the roof. The other hand he used to press between his eyes while he waited for the acid to eat through.

Finally, he had a hole big enough for his body and he slipped through - grateful his black Maelstrom-issue body suit protected him from his own acid.

The room he entered was full of mildew-scented mops, which he could smell, but not see. He tried switching to infra-red.

....

Oh right...can't do that in human form. Glow stick, idiot.

He paused for a moment.

His head was still pounding and he was already making mistakes.

This slaving operation was professional and careful. They took only as many victims as they could handle. The main guards were self-willed. The Converted guards were high-end and well-maintained. The building had really good sensor nets built in and around it - it had taken him an hour to wend his way through the lasers which would alert those inside if anyone so much as walked past on the sidewalk.

In other words, one wrong move and he was in for a rough night...and it had already been a rough night.

Maybe Optimus was right. Maybe he should just go home and leave these captives to their fate. Maybe he should answer the worry and the resentment his mate was battling, and trying so hard to keep from him.

He smiled grimly to himself.

He was just going to walk out of here...yeah right.

Shaking his head, grinning bitterly at himself, he carefully turned the doorknob and peeked out into the well lit corridor. Hadn't these assholes ever heard of conserving electricity?

He debated. Knocking the light out would be easy enough, but if he just went around killing lights, someone would get suspicious. Checking his scanner again showed all three of the slavers upstairs still seated, but expecting them to remain that way was just stupid....

The layout was in his favor though....one long "L" shaped hallway that rimmed the edge of the open warehouse below. The offices were on the long side, the security room on the short. One light fixture.

Was there an outlet in here?

Nope. Not in a closet dummy, but...oh joy, there was one in the hall just outside. He took out a jack knife, found the saw blade without looking, and cut into the drywall.

Once the conduit was exposed he cut slowly into it and revealed the wiring. Then he got out a little gizmo of Talon's design, thinking that if Lancer had been with him he wouldn't have needed it.

He attached the miniature jumper cables to the wiring, checked on the bad guys, and poked his head out into the hall again. He took careful aim with a blow dart and activated his device. All the lights in the building flickered off, as if with a brownout. As he let the lights come back on he blew a pellet at the bulb in the hallway and it popped.

"Shit!" came a gruff voice from one of the offices. "Doug?! Are the cameras still up?"

"All clear!" a different voice called back. "Just another fine example of service from our power company."

Rodimus hastily shut the door, wishing they wouldn't yell so loud. Why did loud noises make human headaches worse? What did one thing have to do with the other? Just one of the many things Magnus always griped about and...crap he needed to concentrate.... What was he doing letting his mind wander like that?

He waited until he was sure no one was getting up to investigate the light any further. Then he slid into the hallway, crept silently into the security room, pushed Doug's head forward, and shoved a needle up into his skull through the foramen magnum.

"Now you know what it is to be converted you shit," Rodimus whispered to the slack body in the chair. He checked the security systems briefly, avoiding the spreading puddle of fluids Doug's body was releasing. The security grid was well made, but nothing alien in origin.

He went out and studied the rest of the hallway.

The office furthest from him was set way back in the corner. The one closest was right at the top of the stair and had a large window. No doubt you got a commanding view of the warehouse floor from there.

He sighed. That meant the far office was probably the book-keeper and the closer was the boss. Decisions, decisions.

Book-keepers often knew more about what was going on than the bosses did, but the boss was most likely to have command authority over the CV guards.

Rodimus frowned. Boss first. He wanted to chat with the book-keeper undisturbed.

Reaching the door, Rodimus cursed the man. He wasn't a dummy, and had his desk situated facing the door.

But...Rodimus couldn't believe it...the man was dozing off! Rodimus ran, silently, to get in behind him, just as the slaver lifted his head to look blearily back at his computer. Standing right behind him, Rodimus could see that Boss kept a blaster trained at the door, and was tabulating estimates for his "cargo" downstairs. A spread-sheet of costs and profits, just like the guy was selling oranges.

Rodimus curled his lip. He doubted orange sellers got drowsy from sating themselves on their merchandise. This creep hadn't even zipped his fly the whole way.

The assassin twirled his bloody needle and gripped the man's throat just under the larynx with the pin pressed across it like a garrote.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he whispered in the man's ear. "I can hear... sobbing... downstairs. I've got daughters, see? I always worry someone like you will try to get a sound like that out of them, so hurting you really, really badly seems kinda cool to me right now. Put your hands on top of your head."

The terrified man complied...and urinated on himself. Rodimus barely noticed. He slipped out a length of wire and twisted the man's hands together. He didn't worry about the circulation either. This sleaze wouldn't be using his hands again.

"Can you contact those Converted guards silently?" Rodimus asked.

The man frantically shook his head.

"What's the code word then?"

"Candy..." Boss whispered.

Rodimus stared at him. The man shrugged, and looked a bit embarrassed.

The assassin took out a small memory crystal device and plugged it into Boss' computer. He downloaded everything on the system to his crystal and Robert's piggy-back virus to their network. He waited to see if he needed Boss to give him any more passwords but it took only seconds to get everything. Rodi smiled nastily at Boss' wide-eyed gaze. This done, Rodi took his crystal back, pocketed it, and twirled his needle around his fingers again. When he was sure Boss was looking, Rodimus shoved it through the man's left eye. Part of him regretted. Part of him was pleased with the efficient, quiet kill. Part of him wished he could linger...take his time...play a little....

Next came the book-keeper's office. Unlike his paranoid (well...maybe not paranoid) ex-boss this man had three desks scattered all over the room and a wide, smooth floor with a rolling chair he could use to scoot from one to the other. Currently he was sitting with his back to the door. Rodimus took out a blaster, and put it to the back of the man's head.

Books froze nicely, and didn't seem too surprised.

"Hands on your desk please," Rodimus said politely. "I want your shipping records, inventory, suppliers, clients, everything."

"It's all right here," Books told him.

"That's the stuff you keep out to look pretty for you boss," Rodimus snarled. "I want your REAL books, Asshole...including the stuff you keep for yourself on the side."

Now the man looked nervous.

"You from Ferino?"

Rodimus arched an eyebrow and said nothing.

"I TOLD him it would be a few days," Books whined.

Rodimus didn't answer, but he pressed the gun a bit harder to the back of the man's head.

Trembling, Books told him. "It's over there," he said, indicating the smallest, messiest desk.

"Any funny business and I'll kill you slow," Rodimus told him.

Shuddering, the man paled and nodded. He started to get up, but Rodimus pressed on him with the blaster.

"I'll escort you," he said, and used his other hand and the blaster to steer Books' chair across the room. "Here good?" he asked casually. Books nodded and reached into his desk. Rodimus let increased pressure speak for him as the man's hands moved around, feeling for something amidst paper-clips, empty granola wrappers, and scattered pens.

What he came out with looked like a broken memory card. It was dirty, scuffed and was clearly missing some of its connectors. Rodimus smiled, and nudged with the gun. Sighing, Books popped off the fake facing on the card, revealing an undamaged chip of much higher capacity.

"What's the code word for the Converts downstairs?" he asked.

"Overlord," Books said.

Rodimus glared.

"Candy! I mean candy!" Books corrected frantically.

"That is so stupid, by the way," Rodimus said, pocketing the chip.

"You'll let me go now?"

"Sure," Rodimus said. "Straight to hell." With that he broke the man's neck.

Then he crawled out on his belly and peered down below him.

The captives sat on the floor in various states of dress and shock. Several of the girls and one of the youngest boys were nude and bruised, with blood running down their legs. The guards looked bored and checked their watches. They must have been waiting for some kind of transport to arrive.

Rodimus fought down the urge to just morph and start stepping on things.

Downstairs the general crying got louder as one of the guards eyed another captive. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

"You ain't done that enough yet?" one of the others asked in a bored tone, while his co-worker grabbed her shirt and pulled down, ripping it painfully.

"My old lady's been holding out on me," the guard said, throwing the girl face down over a crate. He never let go of his gun as he exposed himself, tore down the girl's shorts, and penetrated her from the rear. Smooth. Obviously someone had practice. She screamed and he encouraged her between groans.

You can't save them all...you can't save them all.... Rodimus told himself. The practical assassin saw the other guards were getting distracted. That was good. Rodimus needed to get to those Converted telekinetics. You always went for the biggest threat when possible. He made a choice to let the abuse continue, but another side of him screamed with the girl.

He had faced this kind of choice many times before.  
Usually, the assassin won.  
Not today.  
He broke.

Leaping to the banister with blaster drawn he slid, shouting "CANDY! STAND DOWN!" at the top of his lungs (and feeling strangely idiotic doing so). He shot the Converted telekinetics before anyone reactivated them and then blew the rapist's head off.

The girl's screams as her attacker's blood-spurting corpse fell out of her reminded Rodimus of Carly. He wasn't sure he'd done her any favors. He blew the lights and the heads off two more guards before reaching the bottom of the stairs, rolled, came up at the feet of a third, and hit him in the chest with such force it broke the man's sternum. The slaver fell to the floor and lay there until he smothered on the blood in his lungs.

Blaster fire followed Rodimus around the room - hitting some of the screaming, panicked captives. The headache was affecting his vision, and he was hit twice, but the armor took most of the shock. He flipped and struck and dodged. A powerful, two fingered jab at the nexus between the neck and the collar bone sent another slaver to the floor. The man dropped his gun, clutching his neck with one hand and waving Rodi off frantically with the other. A clear surrender. Rodimus grabbed the man's windpipe and twisted until it snapped. Two of the remaining guards tried to run, but he shot them in the back. The last three charged him desperately, all three blasting wildly in panic. He leapt up, over their fire, somersaulted, unwrapped himself, and exploded on top of them. Two went down with a shared split-kick to their heads. On his way to the floor, Rodimus landed in a hand stand and threw one last kick to the final slaver's face. Chunks of bone from the bastard's nose erupted through his sinus cavities and into his brain.

Then Rodimus stopped, gasping with exertion and pain. His head felt like it was ready to explode, as frightened victims looked around and tried to make sense of what happened. Normally he would be moving, checking on victims, making his escape, or even killing captives if he thought they'd seen too much.

The transport was surely coming. He couldn't afford to rest, but he went down on one knee and held his head.

One captive approached him fairly calmly.

"You're here to rescue us?" the man, in maybe his thirties asked Rodimus.

Rodimus forced himself to sneer.

"Nah...I"m from Ferino's gang. Just here to mess up the competition."

"Hmm...that's interesting," the mutant said, easily ripping off his inhibitor collar. "So am I."

Rodimus stiffened in anguish as he felt his mental shields being invaded. He managed to turn his blaster on the door so that it exploded outward and let the captives run free as he fought to keep the telepath from raiding his mind.

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Elita's face was a perfect mask of calm, regal dignity. Behind that she was a seething whirl of annoyance and disgust...no small part of which was aimed at her mate. She fully agreed with his assessment that they were being dealt with unfairly by their trading partners. His evaluation of the new products they were peddling for the new sparks was dead on too. Useless, over-priced crap. Nevertheless, laying the fragile and hard fought agreements SHE had wrangled out of these people years ago to waste in one fell swoop was just too much.

Elita wasn't generally an impatient person. Isolation in the tunnels had certainly taught her to wait. The first, grossly unfair trade-deals they had wrought with such toil just a few years ago were only the first step in her mind. Neighboring systems had watched Cybertron warily for millions of years...as one era of peace after another fell to civil war. Convincing them THIS peace would last had been...difficult. Impossible really. The only reason most of them were even willing to discuss trade was because of the blatantly lop-sided terms the Autobots settled for. No doubt plenty of their so-called partners weren't really putting much stake in trade with Cybertron. They were getting in while the getting was good, and ready to cut their losses at the first sign of trouble. Like a person with bad credit, the Autobots were paying high interest for the privilege of doing business.

Optimus had every right to feel cheated. They WERE being cheated, but he hadn't done his planet any favors by SAYING so.

Nothing had really changed of course. There was still profit to be made here, and none of the trading partners was about to let their competition have at Cybertron's next generation unchallenged, but.... Now they were all "insulted" and would need extra dispensation to take back to their home governments to "win back public favor".

In other words...they were finding one more excuse to rob the Autobots blind, and Elita had to smile about it.

Elita knew her mate was...unstable right now.

She knew he was being forced to cope with a jumbled mind after the Sigma implants left chaos in their wake.

What she was angry about was that HE hadn't realized in time to take himself and his big mouth out of the picture before making this... this... mess!

Continued in Part J


	10. Chapter 10

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1 Part A

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

Maelstrom Chapter 37  
Pilgrimage 1

Part J

Continued from Part I

Char:

Cyclonus could not believe the mess just a few days off Char could make.

Damn that femme!

The audacity!

He knew Viper was ambitious but to just walk up and proposition an insane, plasma wielding, violent Decepticon like that! She was lucky he hadn't culminated his pleasure with a cannon blast to her head! She was lucky he hadn't torn her limb from limb!

Was she blind...or did she take a calculated risk?

Cyclonus was apt to think the former because of her youth, but then again he was very afraid it was the second.

She was smart. She was cunning. She pressed her advantages and let nothing stop her. She was a worthy Decepticon... and she was a great big pain in the diodes.

Then again, so was Galvatron.

Soundwave had told Cyclonus Viper had seemed shocked when Galvatron availed himself of her on the dias, but she apparently recovered quickly. The communications officer told Cyclonus (once again in his usual neutral intonations) that Galvatron had kept Viper at his side ever since. Soundwave sensed a variety of motives from Galvatron in that. He wanted her where he could keep her from the others, who were now both more frightened to approach her and more aroused by her unapproachability. Galvatron also intended to keep an optic on her, once again confirming for Cyclonus that Megatron's instincts lived on. Of course, having her near at hand also gave Galvatron access to her...charms...at a moment's notice, and the Decepticon leader seemed to be making a point of that as well.

Cyclonus remembered very clearly that lithe, strong body pressed up against his, his immediate desire for her, and then that awful smell...

He felt sick.  
Then it hit him.  
"Where's Adder?" he asked.

"With Viper, as usual," Soundwave informed him.

"But..." Cyclonus said, incredulously.

"She no longer sees Galvatron as separate from Viper. He smells like her. She will not attack him," Soundwave said.

"Unfortunately that doesn't go for the rest of us," Cyclonus said grimly.

"No..." Soundwave said. "No one wants duty here anymore."

Now that was saying something. If you wanted to curry Galvatron's favor you needed to be where he could see you. Galvatron was very much an "out of sight, out of mind" kind of guy.

The door behind the dias opened,

"Ah, Cyclonus!" Galvatron said. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

Cyclonus shivered involuntarily. In this discussion of Viper, he'd forgotten how much trouble he was in....

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Ratchet was in trouble and he knew it. Perceptor kept finding more tasks for him to try simultaneously. Currently he was constructing 3 news sets of "arms", monitoring the chemical analysis of a crushed Matrix stone, and the energy storage capacity of another one about an inch in diameter.

Rodimus had told them it was set up to be a battery, and Perceptor was threatening all sort of tests to find out how the young Prime knew. So far, they couldn't argue with him, and it was absorbing energy at a rate that fascinated, then alarmed, and then finally fascinated them again.

Ratchet couldn't wait for Rodimus to show. It would give Perceptor something else to obsess over for a while.

The tiny stone took on more and more power until finally it glowed brightly and flared, releasing its power in a short, beautiful burst of rays.

"Oh..." Perceptor said. "Like the Matrix did when Optimus forced Rodimus in, just smaller scale."

"What do you mean?" Ratchet said.

Perceptor looked uncomfortable. "There was a time...Hot Rod was mortally injured... Optimus forced the Matrix on him, and it assimilated his consciousness to afford us adequate time to reconstruct his systems. It glowed, much as this one did when the transmission took place."

Ratchet, being more compassionately than scientifically motivated asked, "Why would Optimus have to force Hot Rod into a life-saving action?" Ratchet had a lot more experience with his own Hot Rod than he did this dimension's Rodimus, and Optimus Prime's son was nothing if not committed to a long and enjoyable life.

"Hot Rod...Rodimus was unfortunately suffering from a profound depression, encouraged, we have just learned, by Vector Sigma," Perceptor said. Moving on to the studies at hand he said, "Do you see what this implies? What your existence there implies? It indicates our sparks really have more to do with energy than circuitry! It never occurred to me to study it before, but Rodimus' life-spark transferred between two very disparate vessels that day...his normal body and the Matrix, yet both his neural circuits and the Matrix's...er...crystalline matrix were able to sustain him! The same has happened with you my friend! And look at how much more efficient the crystals are! Your new residence is one eighth the size of your neural systems and you have included all the reference material you downloaded as well! The potential of a technology based on this is unfathomable!"

Ratchet sighed. He was finding this multifaceted ability to think about many different things at once a bit tiring emotionally. One part of him was already wildly brainstorming ahead of Perceptor...thinking of ways to use a Matrix stone to save dying patients like Rodimus had been saved. But he also thought of the Jabez and their use of this technology... And some part of him couldn't drop something else - how sad it was to think of the endlessly cheerful Hot Rod he was familiar with being driven to such sadness he was willing to die.

x  
x  
x

Earth:

Rodimus was ready to die his head hurt so much. Really it was getting to a point he thought only the Jabez could manage. He was also paralyzed with strain. Mental violation was usually something he held out with ease, but apparently pulling Implants had weakened his armor.

The telepath probed his shields, and keeping him out took all of Rodi's concentration, although he was gratified to see the mutant looking surprised when he couldn't get in. That didn't stop the man from simply picking up a board and clocking Rodimus across the face with it.

The physical impact was probably meant to rock Rodimus' concentration. It might have worked on someone else, but for Rodimus the pain barely registered next to the headache.

Rodimus supposed he should be grateful the telepath was very curious to discover who he was, and didn't just shoot him. Still, some of his teeth were loose, and he tasted blood.

Then help arrived.

Aren't you mad at me? Rodimus sent.

I'm not mad enough to let you die Stupid! Lancer sent back, exasperated. You should have called me! I thought all of this pain was just your damned headache!

Well that's good to know, Rodimus returned fondly.

We will discuss how ridiculous you are later, Lancer sent. She immersed herself into his thought-pattern. Unified, as they had been against the alternate universe's Matrix, they pushed with everything they had.  
In this at least, two heads really were better than one. Lancer brought her demon to bear...Rodimus brought his madness. Their combined fury torpedoed into their assailant.

The telepath didn't even scream.

Rodimus left him standing there, blank-eyed, brain-dead, and drooling. He laid micro-charges in the corners and at the support pillars. Walking away, he set off the inner charges first and the building imploded behind him.

He didn't look back, but hid on a rooftop across the street.

A few minutes later a large, unmarked moving truck turned down the street, stopped, and backed up in a hurry.

Rodimus shot a tracking device at its roof, and vowed to pay the drivers a visit. Soon.

x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Optimus was not happy. First of all, for some reason having First Aid in his quarters really bugged him - probably because the medic was openly baby-sitting him. The senior Prime felt fine, and couldn't see why he needed watching.

Even when the neural-inhibitor wore off and the medic finally was able to leave, Optimus was still in a foul mood.

Stomping into his office and crashing down into his protesting chair, he found a stack of reports from Kup...in Kup's hand. More problems with reporters. More Paradronians protesting this or that policy for breeding rights.

Jazz's news, also delivered in person, about Overlay's murder didn't help.

"Why didn't you keep an eye on Cyclonus?!"

"I tried! Do you know how many cameras there are to keep track of around here? I wasn't even monitoring Cybertron! I just happened to see the sucker sneakin' in...and then I lost him. By the time I found him again he was on his way down to the lab with a load of tourists."

"This planet is wide open," Optimus groaned.

"My regular security teams are still fully functional," Kup noted.

"Did any of them catch Cyclonus?" Optimus asked.

"Err...no. He skirted the patrols and the obvious cameras," Kup admitted.

"We're wide open," Optimus repeated.

Kup sighed.

"Oh this looks like a fun meeting," a voice said.

All three of them screamed in shock, and Rodimus dropped his cloak.

"How long have you been there?!" Optimus accused.

"Since you guys came in," Rodimus smirked. He stared at Jazz, who took the hint and gave Rodi his seat, not that he begrudged it. Rodimus didn't look entirely well.

"What happened to your face?" Optimus asked.

"A telepath with a board," Rodimus sighed, shutting down his optics.

"A human can cause that much damage?" Kup asked. Rodi's left cheek was concave and crumpled.

Rodimus turned on the one optic nearest Kup and squinted at his mentor, "When I'm in human form, yeah."

"Why didn't you duck?" Jazz queried reasonably.

"I don't want to talk about it," the young Prime said.

"Well...tough shit," Optimus told him bluntly.

Rodimus turned both optics back on, peered painfully at his partner, and then shut them off again. "Elita's gonna wash your mouth out."

"She's gonna have to find it first," Optimus informed him, "You, on the other hand, are putting in a full report. Complete Rodimus. All the gory details, hear me? No more of this editing for anyone's good."

"You don't really need to..."

"RODIMUS!"

"Ouch! OK...geez. You get to have your relapses, I get to have mine," Rodimus said with a smile that held no warmth, only bitterness.

"Rodi..."

"Any word from the M and M's?" Rodimus asked.

"One down, one ta go," Jazz informed him. This time Rodi smiled like he meant it.

"Rodi...stalling is for old rust-buckets like me," Kup informed him.

Optimus laughed a bit hysterically.

Rodimus sat up and stared at Optimus grimly, then compassionately. "Are you sure you're up to this...I mean right now? We are both off-kilter with all these damned implants coming out the hard way. I almost fatally screwed up more than once tonight."

Optimus glared.

Rodimus sighed and gave them a complete report of his evening.  
x  
x  
x  
Earth:

Marissa strained, and roared in relief. Darren followed his brother into the world and shortly was giving his lungs just as good of a workout.

Magnus, who was still giving Marissa something to squeeze with one hand, and gingerly holding Kyle with the other, did the finger and toe count himself this time.

"No wheels?" Marissa asked, exhausted.

Doc put the new one on her chest and said, "No wheels."

"Oh that's good," Marissa said, smiling at Magnus. They grinned like idiots at each other.

x  
x  
x

Defensor straightened and looked around. His mind felt....clear. Maybe clearer than it had ever felt. Nothing could replace First Aid's presence, but the four remaining were linked so tight that it almost made up for what was missing...and what was there worked more smoothly. He sensed no delay...no dissension or disagreement to cause static in his thoughts. Even his limbs functioned more smoothly.

He smiled.  
x  
x  
x

Maelstrom:  
Talon whooped in triumph. "I told you they were here!" he cried.

"My records say they are the next hex down," Robert grumbled.

"Yeah well, they were prob'ly supposed to go there but I didn' feel like carrying them, Cross-eye. So I put 'em here," Talon explained cheerfully.

"We've got room to be organized and you've dumped all sorts of things in a heap," Robert sighed.

"This mesh is heavy. Sue me," Talon scoffed.

"Let's see how you like it if someone makes a heap out of your explosives!" Robert argued.

"Let's see someone blow us all t' Kingdom Come!"

They argued like an old married couple, but they got the heavy, metal roll untangled and out the door in record time. It glittered. The thin, tough strands of wire intersected every few millimeters...and each intersection had a Matrix crystal the size of a grain of sand.

Lancer rubbed her temples, not sure if the headache was Rodi's or her own from working with these two, but she smiled. There was enough mesh to shield Edana's room on Cybertron as well. Her rooms would look like space...black and dotted with tiny stars. Maybe they could cover the walls with something else, and just leave the ceiling....

At least there was something they could do to protect their daughter.  
x  
x  
x

Cybertron:

Rodimus was asleep.

Specifically he was asleep in human form, in Optimus' cab as the senior Prime took him to Med-bay. It wasn't along trip, just a few minutes, but Rodimus had shut his eyes and crashed almost immediately.

Optimus tried to take stock of a lot of conflicting emotions surrounding this one person, ran down the list, and gave up. Too much. Just drive. Quit analyzing and just drive Orion.

Certainly, he understood now why Rodimus had tried to keep so much from him, but it still had to end.

Even when the truth threatened to tear Optimus' mangled mind wide open with rage and disgust and fear and....

Just drive.

What a horrifying mission.

Just...drive.

Neither of us can work on this until our minds heal up anyway, he thought.

Arriving at Med-Bay, Optimus rolled in quietly, trying to let Rodi sleep, only to be greeted by industrious noise, wildly working disembodied limbs, and a cheerful Perceptor. Rodimus jerked awake in Optimus' front seat.

He blinked blearily at the chaos and assumed he was dreaming.

"Greetings Optimus! We've initiated some improvements!" Perceptor cried.

Ratchet, at least, had the sense to look a bit embarrassed. "Maybe we should have asked first," he muttered to himself.


End file.
